#but lucky for me i can pretend to talk to people so it fine

[ruewrote]

𝑖 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢.

PAIRING: 3A!denkikaminari x gn!reader WARNINGS: sad denki, no use of y/n GENRE: angst to fluff SONG INSPIRATION: there for you by martin garrix & troye sivan WORD COUNT: 1186

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you notice denki has been quieter than usual all day. normally, he'd be the one cracking jokes and keeping the energy up, but today there’s a different air about him. it’s subtle, the way he avoids eye contact, the forced smiles, the way his shoulders seem a little slumped, but it’s slight but it's there. and what bothers you most is that no one else seems to notice. the others laugh and carry on, completely oblivious to the shift in his mood.

he stands up suddenly after a group conversation winds down, muttering something about needing to head back to his dorm. no one questions it, letting him go without a second thought, but you can't shake the feeling that something's wrong. you watch him walk away, disappearing down the hall, and a few moments later, you decide to follow.

after giving him some time alone, you make your way to his room. his door is closed when you arrive, and you hesitate for a second, wondering if he needs more time to himself. but the image of his unusually downcast expression sticks in your mind, and you gently knock on the door before letting yourself in.

denki’s sitting on his bed, staring out the window, lost in thought. his usual electric energy is nowhere to be found. he turns his head when he hears you, surprise flickering across his face.

"hey..." he says quietly, his voice lacking its usual spark. "didn't think anyone was gonna come by."

you give him a small smile, closing the door softly behind you before stepping further into the room. "i noticed you were kind of off today," you say gently, sitting on the edge of his bed, keeping some space between you. "i just wanted to check in. see if you're okay."

for a moment, he doesn’t say anything. his gaze falls back to the floor, and his fingers fidget nervously with a loose thread on his shirt. "i'm fine," he mutters, though the way he says it makes it clear he's not. "it's stupid stuff. i don’t want to bother you with it."

“denki…” you tilt your head, your voice soft but firm. “you can talk to me. you don’t have to pretend like everything’s fine when it’s clearly not.”

he lets out a short, bitter laugh, still avoiding your gaze. "i don’t know. i just feel like... everyone’s moving forward, getting better, and i’m stuck, y’know? i try to keep up, but i’m always messing something up. like today, in training... i fried out again. everyone laughed. and i don’t blame them, i mean, it’s what i do, right? screw up and turn into an idiot." he laughs again, but it’s empty, and his shoulders slump a little more.

your heart aches hearing him talk like this. denki always seems so carefree, so full of confidence, but now, sitting here with him, you can see the cracks in the facade he puts up for everyone.

“denki, you’re not an idiot,” you say, your voice filled with sincerity. “you’re one of the most hardworking people i know. you’re always pushing yourself, always trying to get better. and yeah, sometimes things don’t go the way you want, but that doesn’t mean you’re not improving. you’re not stuck.”

he finally looks at you, his eyes filled with doubt. "it’s just hard sometimes, you know? feeling like i’m always the one who messes up while everyone else is just... better."

you scoot a little closer, your voice gentle as you say, “you’re not alone in feeling like that. we all struggle sometimes, even if it doesn’t always show. but i promise you, no one thinks less of you for having rough days.”

denki takes a deep breath, and some of the tension in his body seems to ease. he leans back against the headboard, his hands resting in his lap. “i just... i guess i didn’t think anyone really noticed. i’m always the ‘happy-go-lucky guy,’ right? i don’t want people to see me like this.”

“i’m so sorry that i didn't realize it sooner,” you say softly, meeting his eyes. “and it’s okay to have off days. it doesn’t make you weak or anything like that. it just makes you human.”

his eyes shining with a mix of emotions, hope, disbelief, something like gratitude. “you really mean that?”

“of course i do,” you said, squeezing his hand gently. denki’s gaze dropped to your intertwined hands, his thumb brushing over yours almost absently. “i just… i don’t wanna be behind, you know? i want to be taken seriously, like everyone else.”

your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice, the raw honesty that he usually kept hidden behind his carefree smile. you shifted closer, wrapping your arms around him in a gentle hug. he stiffened for a moment, then melted against you, his head resting on your shoulder.

“you’re appreciated so much more than you think, denki,” you whispered, your voice fierce with conviction. “you have so much to offer. i’m so proud of you, and i’m so lucky to know you.”

he let out a shuddering breath, his arms tightening around you like he was afraid to let go. “thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “i…i really needed to hear that.”

you held him close, your hand gently stroking his back. “i’ll always be here for you. whenever you need to talk, or just…need someone. i’m here.”

he didn’t say anything, he didn't need to, he just held you tighter, his breath warm against your neck. for a long time, you sat like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, the noise of the common room fading away until it was just the two of you, cocooned in a bubble of quiet comfort.

eventually, he pulled back, his eyes red but clearer, the tension in his face eased. “i’m sorry,” he said, his voice still a little shaky. “i didn’t mean to dump all this on you.”

“don’t apologize,” you said firmly. “you’re allowed to feel how you feel, and you’re allowed to talk about it. i’m honestly glad that you did.”

“you’re…you’re really cool, ya know?”

he smiled, a real, genuine smile that made your heart swell with relief. “i’ll try to believe it.”

“that’s all i ask,” you said, squeezing his hand. “just…try to see yourself the way i see you.”

his smile softened, his eyes shining with something warm and tender. “i’ll try,” he said again, his voice quiet but steady. “and…thank you. for being here. for listening. it means a lot.”

“always,” you said, your heart aching with how much you meant it. “i’m always here for you, no matter what.”

he nodded, his gaze lingering on yours for a long, another quiet moment. then he shifted, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, the touch so soft it made your breath catch.

“thank you,” he whispered one last time, his voice filled with all the things he didn’t know how to say.

you knew that, whatever happened, you’d always be there to remind him of just how incredible he truly was.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡

© ruewrote 2024.

[luveline]

can I request eddie with golden retriever!reader, maybe where she gets upset because she overheard people calling her stupid and he sees her cry for the first time and it breaks his heart bc even though she’s upset, she’s trying to be happy? a big hurt/comfort moment?

thank you so much for your request! i love him so much i just wanna squeeze him <3 fem!reader, 1k

Eddie stands in the doorway, and you're lucky he's around. He looks pretty today in his softest manner, plaid shirt tied around his waist, a shirt with cut off sleeves showcasing the lengths of his arms and all their subtle muscle, inky dark tattoos climbing his skin in whorls. His hand moves forward toward you, pale fingers bright even in the dark room. 

"It's a party," he says, "what are you doing here all by yourself?" 

You wipe your running nose with your sleeve for lack of a tissue. Sniffling, you say, "I just didn't want to cry in front of everyone. I'll be right there." 

Eddie closes the door with an easy swiftness. He flicks on the lamp, and he looks at you like you've pulled the rug from under his sneakers. 

"It's fine," you say quickly. You add a laugh you're not quite feeling, not wanting him to worry about you. "Don't stress." 

"Why are you acting like this isn't a big deal?" he says immediately, no punches held. 

"It's not, everybody cries." 

Eddie sits on the end of the bed. The bedspread is a washed out grey, the room someone else's and unfamiliar. You hadn't wanted to have anyone come upon you messy crying in the bathroom, slipping into the master bedroom without a word. It's weird to be among other people's things. It has the feeling of isolation creeping in all over again.

Eddie puts his hand on your thigh. "What's wrong?" he asks, squeezing gently. 

"It's really not a big deal." 

"Humour me then. What's bad enough to make you cry?" 

You swipe under your eyes, his questioning prompting another wave of useless tears. They well big and drop fast down your cheeks like warm summer rain on your cool skin. "It's really stupid," you say with a wet laugh. You can't wipe your face fast enough.

"This is agony for me, you realise?" he says, in a tone that's not as teasing as his usual dramatics. "Seeing you upset? Tell me who said something mean and I'll kick their ass." 

"No, Eddie, you can't." 

"So someone did say something mean?" he asks. 

You trace the curve of a silver ring on his fingers as his hand rubs a slow back and forth over your jeans. The ache in your spine from slouching forward into your hands twinges as you begin to relax, your upset softened by his comforting touch. You don't answer him, only look at his hand, tear after tear curving along the slope of your cheek to meet under your chin. You bring your shoulder up and wipe your chin into your t-shirt. 

"Hey," Eddie murmurs, patting your leg, "you can tell me. I won't do anything you don't want me to do, but I gotta know what's making you cry." 

You loll your head to the side and give him a sad smile. "D'you ever get the feeling that… that everyone's just pretending to like you?" 

"No, but… that's because people don't bother pretending, with me," he says. 

You nod appreciatively. "Well…" 

"It doesn't matter, I can guess. I can guess how it would feel. You think people are just pretending to like you?" 

"I know so," you say. 

Eddie takes his hand from your thigh. You don't have time to mourn the loss —his arm comes up behind you, fingers curling gently at your hip. "C'mere," he whispers, closing the gap between your sides. 

"People saying shit about you?" he asks. 

"You know Gareth's friend? The shorter one? He was laughing with his girlfriend about how stupid I sounded when I was telling you about that octopus thing and I… I know I sounded stupid, it was basically a joke, you know?" You rest your head on his shoulder. "It's dumb." 

"That wasn't stupid, that was interesting."

"In what world?"

"Hey, I can deal with idiots talking down on you, that's what idiots do, but I won't hear it from you. Okay? Don't piss me off," he warns jokingly, giving your waist a small shake against him. "You're not stupid. Do you know how fucking smart, how unshakeable you have to be to see the good in the world? It's easy to give into cynicism, that's why I do it."

"Eddie," you laugh. 

"So you got excited about something a bit weird," he says, "so what? Why should they get to say that's stupid?" 

"Is it really weird?" you ask. 

"Super fucking weird, babe." 

He sounds pleased to have said it, his smile audible, his breath a warm fanning against your cheek. You know you're moments away from a chaste kiss pressed sneakily to the skin just shy of your ear. 

You're shameful. "Is that bad?" you ask. 

Eddie kisses you as you'd expected, right on the mark. "No," he says resolutely, grinning at you though you can hardly see him, he's so close. "No way. We're weirdos together."

You let him make you feel better with another hug, this one double-armed, the short stubble of his chin scratching your cheek. Hands full of his hair, you squeeze him tight enough to bruise, pleased when he groans and yanks out of your arms. 

"That how it is?" he asks. 

"Isn't it always?" 

Eddie takes your face into rough hands. You're under no illusion —delusion, even— that he might close the inches between you. This is a Munson style telling off, eyes locked to yours, forcing you to listen. 

"You scared the shit out of me, but don't think you have to come and sit in a dark room crying by yourself. That's not okay. That's a bit sick, actually." 

"Are you serious?" 

"As a heart attack." 

He rubs your cheeks childishly, pushing them up so they apple. Then, with much more tenderness, he wipes the tacky triangles of your eyelashes with the tip of his thumb. "No crying in empty rooms. You have to do it when I'm around, so I can make fun of you." 

"You're very charming," you say sweetly. 

Something funny stutters over his face, like a slice of sincerity through his bravado. "Only with you, sweetheart."  

[mimasroom2]

My tennis star! (∩˃o˂∩)♡

Secretly dating jock!ellie

C/w: smut but for like 2 seconds. Mention of weed lol. Uhh that’s it this is pretty laid back. This is my first time using those fake texting things I think I like it? Idk

W/c: ≈ 800

𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

- She plays tennis bc I said so 🎾

- She’d win a match and she’d post on her instagram story something REAL cheesy like “only reason why we won is because someone special was in the crowd💖” and everyone thinks she’s talking ab a guy but it’s really you >•<

- She’d pull you aside into an empty hallway and lean over you with her arm up (yknow. The classic masc move.) and whisper “You comin’ to the game tonight, baby?”

- It’s so fucking cheesy but you swear she makes your knees weak every time she talks with her sexy ass voice.

- “Too bad I can’t have a massive ass sign that says your name on it all big or something.” You grin widely and she laughs, leaning in to give you a soft kiss.

- You guys go on dates to the mall so she can buy new workout clothes & equipment. Every time you guys see someone you know in a store you split up and pretend to be looking at different things on other ends of the store. Eventually when they leave you two come back together and giggle.

- “Heya stranger.” She grins, showing you some knee high socks she found while she was pretending to look around.

- Only your two best friends know ab you and Ellie, so you’re always having to make up excuses as to why you’re going to the tennis games.

- “They needed help with grilling hot dogs and hamburgers for the game, and you know I always need more service hours!”

- “Man I’m sorry I can’t go to the movies tonight. I already told the tennis coach I’d do face painting for the little kids that come😕”

- You’re studying at your desk when the first message from Ellie absolutely jumpscares you. The girl really needs to learn about context 🙄

- Absolutely all the girls in the crowd and on the opposing team would swoon over her. She lovesssss the attention and always waves at the crowd and blows kisses to them. Sometimes she winks at the girls on the other team to purposefully distract them as they’re serving. You don’t feel jealous though because you know as soon as the game’s over you’re going back to her place to celebrate ;)

- You feel so fucking lucky you’re dating a jock as her toned muscular arm is pumping in and out of you.

- “Fuck,, guess all that racket swinging comes in handy when I’m fucking you, hm?” She smirks, and she was actually right. She could practically finger you forever and never get tired.

- She’s a perfectionist with her playing and in bed. She’d have to make you cum at least twice before she’s satisfied.

- The next morning Ellie has to leave early for practice so she lets you stay in her room to sleep in. She texts you a WHOLE BUNCH, effectively spamming your phone and waking you up:

- She comes up to you one day out of the blue and says “Hey y/n, I’m like so serious can you hide all my stoner shit until this season is over…?” You knew she smoked but she told you she only does it when she’s off in tennis, so you’re surprised when she hands you a shoebox full of all her stuff.

- “Yeah ‘m fine. Coach has been gettin’ on to me. Jus’ more stressed out is all.” Is all she has to say when you ask about it. She runs her hands through her hair, thinking you’re frustrated with her. You’re just glad she trusts you enough to make her keep her promises to herself.

- She’d ask you what your favorite color is and get a special racket in that color for whenever you see her play. She’d say it’s her lucky racket :,)

- You were never super into sports but you loveeeee spending time with Ellie, so she decides to give you some one on one lessons.

- “Yeah, thas’ it, baby.” She’d mutter in your ear from behind you. She’s holding the racket with you and helping you swing your arms the right way.

- You guys didn’t expect to see anyone on the tennis court this early, so when other people come and Ellie recognizes them, she quickly guides you guys behind a tree.

- Your stomach is filled with butterflies as she tucks your loose hair behind your ear and kisses you !!

- You feel like a little kid playing in the woods again because now you and Ellie are sneaking around the park/tennis court trying not to be seen by the other people

- She gets really cocky sometimes and posts soft launches of you on her insta stories

- It would be a picture of you in her lap WAHH! Her tattooed hand is on your thigh with the caption “keeping me occupied”

𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

[onetoomanyfandomfixations]

Hazbin Hotel Characters React to You Asking for a Hug (PART 1)

Y’all already KNEW this was coming

Charlie

“Oh my goodness, of course you can have a hug!!!”

So excited omg

Her love language is physical touch, she told me herself

Her hugs are Aggressive

Like, the whole tackles you the ground if you’re not careful

Bone crushing hugs

Hugging Charlie is cheaper than chiro, and works just as well 🤷‍♀️

She is So Here for asking for what you need though

So proud of you, even if this is completely normal for you

Vaggie

“I mean, fine, but does it have to be me?”

Will begrudgingly hug you

Tries her hardest to hand you off to her gf

Proud Chaggie enthusiast here

Gives a Solid hug

Firm and safe vibes

Lowkey happy to came to her though

Won’t hug you for a long period of time

BUT

Will happily let you trail after her for the rest of the day

Angel Dust

MY BELOVED

“Ya sure ya don’t need nothin’ else babes?”

Honest to god shocked when you genuinely just want a hug

“Ah, shit. Um. Okay toots.”

Starts off as the awkwardest hugger omfg

Doesn’t rlly know what to do

Realises that he kinda needs this too after the first few seconds.

One set of arms hold you, while the other plays with your hair

“Yo, do ya just wanna cuddle or somethin’?”

Y’all become eachother’s designated comfort person after that

you’re one of the only people who’s touch makes angel feel safe and cared for

Husk

“Shit, really? Ugh, c’m’ere.”

Pretends to hate it

Probs the only person to instantly pick up on whatever reason you need a hug

“You need to talk ‘bout it?”

Canonically good listener

Won’t offer solutions unless you ask for them

wing hugs, wing hugs, wing hugs, wing hugs

Like Vaggie, won’t Actively hold you for long

But will let you cling onto him for however long you need

Tries to stop you from hugging anyone he deems “too fucked up”

it’s literally just alastor ffs

Nifty

“OhohohhoHOHOHHO of course!!”

Literally scales up your body like the little gremlin she is

Basically just rides on your shoulders

Probs tries to steal something from you (hair, etc) for her “friends shrine”

It’s a lil creepy, but well intentioned

If you’re (un)lucky she’ll make you a crown of dead bugs

Sir Pentious

“From me?”

Babes is so confused

But not unwilling

“Of courssse my dear friend!”

Tbh really touched that you trust him that much

Gets the egg boiz in on it

Probs starts rambling to you about his newest inventions

Is the type to forget he’s hugging you, and just continue on as usual and get confused when his hands are full

Beloved dumb bitch

Alastor

“No :)”

I’m sorry y’all but he just Won’t

[achilles-rage]

Good Luck Charm: Chapter 4

college football player!buck x plus size!reader

summary: you're hanging out with evan on campus when a girl he knows comes up to you two, and you can't help the insecurities bubbling up inside of you. your insecurities force you to snap at evan and run away, ignoring him when he tries to talk to you about it.

word count: 2.6k

previous chapter

series masterlist

A/N: to the person that requested more angst, i offer you this🤲🏻 this series has me so excited that i think about it most of the day, and i really appreciate all the positive feedback so far! enjoy chapter 4! <33

warnings: slight enemies to lovers?? slowburn(ish)???, slightly insecure!reader, no use of y/n, fem!reader, race inclusive!reader

The day after you tell your roommate about Evan, you’re walking down the hall on your way to class when he slides up beside you, bumping your shoulder softly. His eyes trail down your figure as he notices you’re wearing another dress. He likes you in dresses, and it’s lucky that you’re taking advantage of the warm weather before it gets colder.

“Good morning, princess.” He smirks smugly when he notices the way your face lights up and you greet him in a happy voice. You can barely make out anything other than good morning before you look back down, embarrassed at how eager you seem to speak to him. Your face burns as you remember how late you stayed up talking about him to your roommate, further adding to the embarrassment. 

“What’s that little smile for, huh? No smartass comments this morning?” he teases, slowing to a stop as you stand in front of your classroom door, waiting for the class before yours to be let out.

“Nothing to say, I guess.” you whisper, looking up at him as he leans against the locker in front of you. He hums softly, licking his lips. Your eyes trail down to his arms, blinking slowly as you notice the way his biceps flex slightly under his shirt as he crosses his arms over his chest. You’re not usually this nervous around him, and you’re beginning to think that maybe talking about him so much is why. You had kept it hidden from everyone before, even yourself. But now, there's no hiding from your feelings for him.

“I like you all speechless, princess. It’s cute.” he teases, as his eyes trail over to a girl that's making her way over to you two, eyes trained on Evan.

“Hi.” she says, smirking up at him, moving to stand almost directly in front of you, pretending you’re not even there.

“Uh, hey Sab. What’s up?” he asks, standing up straight, shoving his hands in his pockets. He looks a little annoyed, but you don’t notice. Your eyes are focused on her, examining her. You can’t help but let out a sad sigh. She’s gorgeous. She’s exactly the kind of girl you imagine Evan would want. 

As she shamelessly flirts with him, it’s like something in you switches, snapping you back to reality. If you were to look at him instead of her, you would see his lack of interest in her, but your insecurities are too loud. How could you think he wants you? You know nothing about football. You don’t go to parties like you’re sure she and Evan do.

And besides, guys like him don’t want girls like you. You know you’re pretty, despite some people in your life telling you that your size means you aren’t. It’s taken you a long time to feel confident in your curves, but you know that some guys just aren’t interested in you because of them, and that’s fine. You just can’t believe you let your feelings get in the way of this fact, and made you think for a second that Evan likes you as anything more than a friend. He's probably just being nice to you so your assignment will go smoothly, you think.

You’re so caught up in your own thoughts that you don’t realize how his eyes keep finding their way to you, and the way he’s acting as uninterested in this girl as possible. He notices that you're completely zoned out from the conversation, and he's a little relieved. He knows Sabrina; he's hooked up with her a couple times at parties, but he doesn't like her like that. He doesn't really want you to know how he knows her, though. He doesn't want you to think he's a complete douchebag. And besides, ever since he met you, you're all he can think about. 

After a few very long minutes, he finally gets her to leave, but you’re still barely listening. You're deep in thought as you feel your walls coming back up again, staring at Evan's chest, eyes completely unfocused. You can’t believe you made cookies because of him, you think.

“Whoa, what’s up with you?” he asks once Sabrina has walked away, ducking his head down slightly to meet your gaze.

“Don’t act like you care.” you reply coldly, eyes darting up to his. He almost stumbles back at your tone, brows furrowing as he takes in your tense stance.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Come on, talk to me.” he says, crouching down slightly and grabbing your upper arms gently. Why are you acting like this again? He thought you were past this.

“There’s nothing to talk about. I don’t know why I thought we could be friends. Or anything else.” you trail off, crossing your arms over your chest as you look down at the ground. You can tell you're being a little harsh, but embarrassment fills your stomach and you feel like you're going to throw up. You can't help the tone in your voice, even though you know he doesn't deserve it. He makes your thoughts so jumbled that you can't hide any emotions in his presence. You feel like a pathetic, love-sick child.

“Hey, come on, don’t shut me out again. Just talk to me, please.” he pleads, eyes searching your face as you try not to look at him. You let out a quiet breath, shaking your head and leaning back from his touch.

“I have to go to class.” Your voice is a whisper as you turn and duck into your classroom. He’s left alone in the hall, dumbfounded. What the hell just happened? He assumes it has something to do with Sabrina, but he’s not sure why. He was clearly acting uninterested in her, so why did you walk away from him so quickly?

He sighs, walking out of the building, lost in thought as he racks his brain for something he might’ve done wrong. He comes up empty, other than the conversation he just had, but he really doesn’t know how he could’ve made himself seem any less interested. He didn’t smile at her once, even when she ran her hand down his arm, hoping to get a rise out of him.

He pulls out his phone, clicking on your text chain and texts you quickly.

Evan: Please talk to me, princess.

Evan: Just tell me what I did, at least.

You huff as you see Evan’s name appear on your phone. You open the conversation, but don’t reply, instead trying to focus on your professor beginning the lesson. You really don’t want to deal with this right now. You try to push him out of your mind as you type out your notes, but it’s difficult.

After 20 or so minutes, your phone buzzes again. You ignore it, leaving it face down on the table. You assume it’s Evan again, and even if it’s not, you’re sure whoever it is can wait until class is over.

His eyes are glued to his phone as he watches the delivery status of his messages. He sees that you read his first two texts, but that the next two are still on delivered after a few minutes. He lets out a low groan and shoves his phone back in his pocket. You're probably ignoring him, or trying to focus on class, he knows how serious you are about your studies. He’ll try to text you again after practice, he thinks.

You pack up your stuff once your two hour lecture is over, and you’re sure it was the longest two hours of your life. As much as you don’t want to think about Evan, you’re dying to see if he texted you again after the first two messages. You feel a little silly, but it makes you feel a little better that he's making an effort to get you to talk to him again. You wait until you’re out of the building to open the text, feeling the calming breeze hit your hot skin as your eyes read his new texts.

Evan: Did I tell you how good you looked today?

Evan: Because you did. Absolutely gorgeous.

You roll your eyes, fighting back a smile as you reread his texts. You’re trying not to be affected by his words, but all you’re imagining is the stupid smirk that was probably on his face as he typed those texts.

You don’t respond again, not really knowing what to say. For some reason, you think it would be more embarrassing to text him and apologize. Then he might ask why you were so upset, and you don't wanna make up a lie right now.

After two hours of barely listening to your professor and thinking it over, you know that you can’t really be mad at him for flirting with that girl. He’s not yours, after all. You're a little embarrassed by what you said, but you're really not sure what to do about it. You just can’t seem to control your emotions around him, and you even if you could, you’re sure he’d figure you out eventually. Maybe you just need some time away from him to calm your nerves and get rid of this silly crush, you think.

He thinks that was the worst practice he’s ever had. His thoughts were completely on you the entire time, leaving him open to be roughly tackled by one of his teammates. It was easily avoidable, but all he could think about was the tone of your voice as you all but ran away from him.

"You good, man?" his teammate, Owen, asks once he gets off of him, holding a hand out to help him up. Evan grabs his hand, feeling winded and slightly dizzy as he stands up. 

"All good." he mutters, shaking his head slightly as he tries to fight the thoughts racing through his head.

"You good?" Owen asks again in a different tone. He can see that Evan's head really isn't in it today, even though he's usually one of the hardest working ones on the team. Out of the whole team, Evan's the most close to Owen, so he's quick to check on him.

"Uh, yeah, yeah. Don't worry about it." he says, pulling his helmet off and running a hand through his hair. 

"I know that look. It's the same one Ab had when his girlfriend dumped him." another teammate says as he jogs over to them, nudging Evan's shoulder.

"Shut up, man." Evan huffs. He's never really liked Jared, he's a dick, and most of the team only puts up with him because his father donates a lot of money to the university and the team.

"Is he right? Is there a girl?" Owen asks, surprised. They've been friends since freshman year, and he knows Evan's track record with women. He's never had a serious girlfriend. He hooks up with girls at parties a lot, but it's never been serious enough for him to think about them after they've hung out.

"No, there's not. I've just got a big assignment due tomorrow, haven't started it." he lies, putting his helmet back on. He hopes this will make them move on. He really doesn't want to talk about you to them, mostly because he knows this isn't like his usual self, and it's a little embarrassing. He's whipped over a girl he barely knows, and she's not even speaking to him right now.

Owen and Jared look at each other, smirking as they shrug, mumbling a quick "whatever, man" as they go back to their positions to run the drill again.

The rest of practice goes equally as bad, and Evan rushes to the locker room as soon as the coach calls the end of practice. He goes right for his phone, growling when he doesn’t see your name on his lock screen. He decides to text you again, hoping that making you laugh might get you to lighten up and let him back in.

You don’t get another text until you get home and are comfortably curled up on the couch with your comfort show softly playing on the tv. You open the text immediately, cursing yourself when you notice he’ll probably see the way it immediately goes from ‘delivered’ to ‘read.’

Evan: Thought you might wanna know that I got my ass handed to me at practice. Got tackled by the biggest guy on the team. Thought I broke something.

Evan: I didn’t, by the way.

Evan: Just wish I had someone to kiss it better.

You can’t help the loud laugh that escapes your throat as you read his first text. You put your hand over your mouth, giggling softly as you read his other messages, rolling your eyes once you get to his last text.

This may be enough to make you laugh, but you still aren’t ready to talk to him. You’re not even sure what you would say. You can’t really tell him that you were jealous, because he’d surely figure out why. You also can’t just keep being mean to him, you know he doesn’t deserve that. You put your phone down on the coffee table, focus returning back to your show. 

He huffs as he sees that you’ve read his texts, but don’t respond, just as his teammates saunter into the locker room, talking loudly to each other. He throws his phone on his bag and runs a hand through his hair, and Owen looks over at him as he opens the locker beside his own. 

“So, who’s the girl?” he teases, causing Evan to groan again. He notices that some of the other guys turn to their conversation, smirking as they hear that Evan may have a girl. They’re all well aware of his reputation.

“There’s no girl.” Evan says roughly, starting to take off his gear, a dull ache pulsing throughout his body from the tackles. He’s upset enough about you ignoring him, and he can’t help the embarrassment that fills him as his teammates tease him about it. They know him as a bit of a womanizer, and he’s too nervous to tell them that a girl he’s known for just over two weeks has already begun to change him so much.

“Come on, there’s gotta be one. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were whipped.” Owen teases, nudging his shoulder as the guys around them laugh.

“Shut the hell up, Owen. There’s no girl.” he lies, jaw clenched as he takes his bag out of his locker and slams the door shut.

“Alright, whatever, man.” Owen says, holding his hands up, chuckling softly as he gives a knowing look to some of the other guys. Evan is still so in his head that he barely notices the looks from his teammates while he’s getting changed. He grabs his bag once he’s changed and makes his way to his jeep, not even bothering to shower. He wants to be alone as soon as possible.

Once he’s home and showered, he tries to text you again. He lays on his back in bed, staring up at the ceiling as he waits for you to answer, but after ten minutes, you still don’t respond, so he texts you again.

You’re not sure how long it is until you fall asleep, but you wake up a few hours later. Your neck aches slightly from the position you were sleeping in as you sit up, noticing the sun is long gone and it’s completely silent in your apartment, the tv reading “Are you still watching?”

You grab your phone, groaning as you realize it’s almost 10pm, and you throw yourself back on the couch once you notice Evan’s name on your lock screen again.

Evan: You can’t ignore me forever, princess. We’re still meeting tomorrow to work on our assignment, right?

Then 10 minutes later:

Evan: Can you at least tell me you’ll be there?

You bite your lip, replying before you quickly stand up and throw your phone onto the couch, going to the kitchen to make dinner.

You: I’ll be there.

You don’t hear your phone vibrate immediately after you hit send, his name illuminating the dark living room.

He wouldn't admit it to anyone, but he’s more or less staring at his phone, waiting to see your name pop up. When it does, he smiles widely, his thumbs moving quickly as he replies.

Evan: I’ll see you tomorrow, princess.

next chapter

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[calisources]

𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐋, 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒.

All sentences on this meme have been taking from different media and sources. They all touch on the topics of romance, difficult and forbidden love, mostly setting in the political schemes of war and peace and royal court. Change names, locations and nouns and you see fit. Some lines might have foul language.

Sometimes we hurt the ones we love, but hurting ourselves to avoid it doesn’t make it better.

Could someone treat you badly and still love you? 

Even so, in the midst of this complicated love, there is a holy union.

Love is complicated. It’s sticky. It’s bliss and it’s a mix of emotions. It’s not easy.

I hated him now because I has loved him then.

 I'm not like you. I can't afford to be reckless.

When have I ever, since the first instant I touched you, pretended to be anything less than in love with you?

Are you so fucking self-absorbed as to think this is about you and whether or not I love you, rather than the fact I'm an heir to the fucking throne? 

You at least have the option to not choose a public life eventually, but I will live and die in these palaces and in this family.

She wears a crown that never should’ve been hers.

Your wish is my command, my queen.

You can always leave my service.

Don’t you see, Diana? If I did that, I’d break not one but two hearts. For I know you love me, though you haven’t said it yet.

You do know me. I love you so much, it sometimes terrifies me.

You are going to regret that, Your Magical Regalness.

Just because I am  a prince doesn’t make my life a fairy tale.

So kiss the others for all I care, but don’t hold back with me.

You are enough to drive a saint to madness or a king to his knees.

He didn't marry you to become king. He became king because he wanted to marry you.

I know I have but the body of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the heart and stomach of a king.

 I believe we are what we make ourselves, and as such, you, Crown Princess, are nothing.

You, what are you? The brat of lucky parents who were related to a childless king.

Rule with the heart of a servant. Serve with the heart of a king.

There’s a fine line between gossip and history, when one is talking about kings.

You can't treat royalty like people with normal perverted desires.

We kings do develop a certain ability to recognize objects under our noses.

...alone is such a nebulous state when one is queen.

I respect you as my king, and I respect you as my father, but I do not respect you as a man.

You're the most important person I've ever met.  And I should have never met you at all.

Desires are what can most easily ruin us, lovely.

I find that happiness can always be recollected in tranquillity, Ma’am.

It's almost impossible for those who have had an intimate relationship to return to a formal one.

I question if within you is any magic.

You’re my princess, right? You were always going to be my princess, no matter what you were born.

The king is a saint and cannot rule, and his son is a devil and should not.

For kings, the world is extremely simplified: All men are subjects.

A king deserves reverence when being addressed.

Yes, she had abused her title and station before, but for minor stuff, not to steal a warship.

You are a king worthy of their allegiance . . . with a queen full of fire and promise.

When God calls you into His Kingdom, your way of life will reflect royalty if you serve Him with loyalty.

My royal status is both a shield that protects me and a sword that impales my heart.

You know, for a pampered princess, you have a certain gift for violence.

I have to be seen to be believed.

Kings needn’t raise their voices to be heard.

That is your very own myth. The idea that how you are born or the name you are given dictate the sort of person you really are.

I know that names have power. That is why I cannot let her forget hers. 

You’ll have to face it, Princess. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but soon enough. And you can’t be this scared when the time comes.

A bad king revels in his importance. A good one hates his office. 

Crowns belong to those that serve.

She was their witch queen, and they adored her.

Beatrice is going to be queen someday.

Kings are only kings because one ancestor was quicker than another to place a crown on his own head.

Queen, do not allow a commoner to dethrone you. Own that throne. You are royalty.

A throne won in blood will soon be drenched in it.

My mother once told me that everything is fuelled by either money or sex, because both lead to power.

Even when she's dethroned by hardship, she still wears the sun as a crown.

She holds a nation’s fate within her shaking hands. She wears a crown that never should’ve been hers.

My reign has been anything but traditional. Let’s not start now, shall we?

Oh honey, someday a real man is going to make you see stars and you won't even be looking at the sky.

Every girl thinks about growing up in a palace. Few ever ponder living in a cage.

Climb up the family tree of any of them high enough and you’ll find a commoner who dared to take a chance.

Am I forbidden to do what all may do?

My arrival saved the kingdom, while his only reiterated that his blood would fill the throne one day.

Slow down there, princess. How do you know what kind of first impression you gave me?

So none of the young men we encountered during our season gave you hot pants for them?

If stubborness were all that was needed to be a good queen, I'd rule the world.

I’d decided that I was going to stop dressing like a princess and start dressing like a queen.

Don’t touch me. Don’t tell me how beautiful my eyes are, how soft my hair is, how you love to hear my voice. Don’t. Don’t pretend you are falling in love with me. 

I know you are lying, and every word you say hurts even more. 

Before the wedding, and the bedding, when I will have to take you as my lord and husband?

I may not be a king or a queen, but I'll be damned if I'm not treated like royalty.

He is fragile, like a prince of ice, of glass.

It is natural that men are going to gather round me, hoping for a smile.

Men only treat women like princesses when they want to use them like prostitutes.

You can smile when your heart is breaking because you're a woman.

I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't do anything but think about him.

Anyone can attract a man. The trick is to keep him.

To save my son, I would plot with the devil himself.

Only fools wait when their enemies are coming, to see if they may prove to be friends.

When a man wants a mystery, it is generally better to leave him mystified. Nobody loves a clever woman.

I wanted the heat and the sweat and the passion of a man that I could love and trust.

I am a fool to own it, but I am in a fever for your touch.

And you are the sort of mistress a man doesn't bother to marry. Sons or no sons.

[indecenthoney]

Is it weird that I wanna watch?

------------------------------------------------

Okay, hear me out! I'm sure any guy has had a lucky pervert fantasy of walking into their "girl" friend touching herself and it leading to something heated. But like what if I just wanted to watch? I think it's a lot hotter not doing anything in the moment. Let me play it out for you.

"Hey... Sorry to barge in but have you seen the... Oh shit... Sorry... sorry... I didn't know you were... doing that... I was just gonna ask if you've seen the package... Uhm you... okay? Fuck me you're really flushed... Different question... Do you mind if I watch...? You heard me! Let me watch... I promise I won't touch you... I just wanna watch... and I mean your pent up right now aren't you? I bet you wanna touch yourself so bad right now... It's funny... C'mon I won't bite... unless you want me to... I'm kidding Im kidding... Fine just let me see your facial expressions... You can cover up and do it under the sheets... It's getting unbearable, isn't it? Ill just talk your head off until you give in... So? What will it be? Sweet... and I'll be right here I promise... Just going to watch..."

People give in pretty quickly when pent up. If you really loved your friend then you'd guide them through a session. What are friends for?

"It's nothing... You're making a really slutty face just now... what are you being so slow for? Just a minute ago you were moaning into your pillow finger fucking yourself silly... No need to be reserved... pretend I'm not even here... That's it... Slick your needy cunt to your hearts content... Does it feel good, sweetie? Fucking yourself for me? Oh? Someone's getting excited... Do you like it when I talk to you like this? Hm? Talking down on you like a bitch in heat... so desperate to get off that you're doing it in front me? Yeah I did ask... but you're so quick to give in... like you wanted me to watch... No? You may be covered up but I can hear how fucking wet you are... such naughty sounds... "

It suchs a treat to see them get off on my words. Slowly making them brainless for me to slip in a little command that'll push them over the edge.

"That's it, sweetie... You're doing so good for me... Yeah? Yeah? It feels good, right? You're eyes are even rolling back... Are you close? C'mon sweetie... keep your eyes locked to mine... Imagine my cock sliding into you ramming my thick hard cock... kissing the entrance of your womb each time I pound into you..."

The sight of her desperately chasing her orgasm is quite the show. Being watched is already a lot for a person but to be touched when I promised not to. It'll send them over the edge.

"That's it, sweetie... Keep rubbing yourself stupid for me... Open wide for me, ya? It's okay... It's okay... I'm just going to help you a little... There we go... lick my fingers... such a pretty little mouth... so lonely... I thought you needed something to fill it... relax relax... let me trace your tongue with my finger... That's a good girl... Don't worry about the mess... We'll get you cleaned up... Fuck me... you're salivating like a mutt... Just a little longer... let me admire you... Good girl... Thank you for waiting... You can suck on my fingers again..."

Completely entranced by the pleasure losing all sense of shame and morality. Sucking and fucking herself silly. Pumping my fingers into her mouth as if she's sucking my cock. And then pulling away when she least expects it leaving her empty and confused. Only to be greeted with another sense of pleasure as I gently slide my thick fingers into her tight cunt.

"You can fight it as much as you want but ypur body will always tell the truth...and truth be told... you want this... your tight cunt squeezing onto my fingers... Oh? You're going to cum? And here I thought you hated me... Say sorry and I'll let you cum... What was that? You can do better than that sweetie... Too brainless to speak... fine... let me make it easier for you... I can stop and leave you be or... I cam stay and help you... and all you have to do is lick my fingers... Mhm... Taste yourself on my fingers princess... What will it be? That's a good girl..."

I'll have so much fun toying with her from now on. Playfully fingering her whenever I please. And she knows deep down that it feels too damn good to resist. All because she let me watch <3

------------------------------------------

In your head,

Honey

[hotchfiles]

❝ ['CUZ YOU'RE A NATURAL] ❞ — a in this house of mine prequel ; MDNI!

pairing: aaron hotchner x rossi!reader. summary: not having a crush on your dad's friend and co-worker should be rule number one. but what are rules when said friend is aaron hotchner? content warnings: this is suggestive at best. foul language? still let's go with MDNI! age-gap flirting. word count: 1k. a/n: might do a pt.2, i just needed to get this out of my brain.

He’s just pretending not to notice it at this point, which isn’t easy coming from a person who notices everything. Coming from the man who helped build the unit that literally analyzes people for a living. 

Granted he wasn’t the most present of fathers and he wasn’t even sure if your mother was his second or third ex-wife anymore, but he knew human behavior, and human behavior clearly showed there was no reason for you to be there, “Kid, I’m sure you hate sports of any kind.” David comments, observing as you make sure Jack’s shoes are tight and won’t get in his way. 

“Well dear father, actually, I was a cheerleader for my last three high school years. And the first two college ones.” He knows that, and you know he knows it, but your best way out of the mess you were purposefully getting into right now was to appeal to the guilt you knew he still had from not being around much. “Base of the pyramid, very important, sporty, love sports.” You noticed you were going on for too long and shut your yapper.

Lucky for you Aaron didn’t seem to mind the two of you discussing, busy watching his baby boy with the most sweetest look on his face, he looks ethereal, his smile the most enchanting you’ve ever seen. 

You can feel your father’s glance going from you to Aaron slowly, he’s observing, analyzing but trying hard to ignore the signs. The signs that you weren’t there for some dad and daughter bonding.

Unless the dad in question was Hotchner.

The sole reason you had put yourself in short rounded skirt, sports short underneath, gym sneakers and shirt, and an old baseball cap to make it look like it wasn't so out of the norm for you to be at an event like that. It was. Your dad was right, you didn't like sports, you liked cheer squad and the parties and the players, not the game. But you had your eyes set on the coach today which is why you were there instead of working on your masters' assignments.

You couldn't even pretend to know what was going on, if it was football you had some experience from watching and hearing past flings talk about it, but soccer? You could only cheer for Jack and bicker with the soccer moms around as they talked about how much better their children were.

"Hey, lady if your son gets that close to Jack again I'm gonna jump him." You point your finger at one of them, decorum almost goes to hell as she begins walking in your direction, Rossi stepping in the way to apologize for your behavior.

Oh. You can't just threaten to hurt kids. That's not okay. "Sorry, just used to fighting with guys' girlfriends to defend my team. Cheer squad reflex memory." You say lowly directly to Aaron, not even bothering to apologize to your father. Your cheeks tomato red, a combination from the embarrassment and the sun that was making everyone sweat.

"It's fine, she has to teach her son fair play anyway, he's not gonna go far like that." His expression doesn't show even one single sign of being mad at you, you notice it, Rossi notices it. Aaron's actually smiling, completely amused by the situation.

It was nice to have someone sticking up for his boy like that.

And to have someone look at him with those eyes. Not the aw you're such a good dad eyes most mothers gave him when he's around for matches. Nope. The please fuck me eyes you always shot at him even if your father was around. For the sake of his loyalty to Rossi he pretended not to see it, as he knew Rossi did too. He hoped David didn't notice the eyes he himself gave you though, or that if he did, he was kind enough to ignore it, Aaron would never act on it. Never. He was twice your age if not more even if he weren't friends with David.

Still, he enjoyed the touches, the stolen glances, the way you wore your short dresses and skirts around him, the way you showed you cared above the desire for the unobtainable. How you sent him cute videos with show Jack as a caption, how you remembered to bring a towel not for yourself, but to pat his face dry, delicate as ever.

"People will think you were the one playing sweating like this." You go through his face and his neck with it, handing him a water bottle after. You brought those yourself too, you wanted to be useful.

Before he can hold it back, a smirk deliciously mischievous takes grip of his lips, "What can I say dear, I tend to sweat a bit when I'm doing any type of exercise." You're not sure if you wished you hadn't caught the innuendo of his reply, as you were now fighting hard not to squirm in front of him. Oh you wanted nothing more than to be the one making him sweat.

"Good thing your bedroom has an A.C then." You say almost mindlessly, panicking just a tad when you grasped the idea that maybe remembering that so easily wasn't the most normal thing to do. Did you just sound obsessive? Stalkerish? You think not when he chuckles, nodding in agreement.

You both just look at each other for a minute, breathing patterns completely irregular, being interrupted only by your father loudly coughing from some steps away from you both, tired of having to deal with the obvious tension between his daughter and his co-worker, his friend! Rossi doesn't say anything else though. And neither does Aaron or you, deciding to just go back to paying attention to the match.

But Hotch had just got you an in. If he hadn't flirted back you might just keep it as a crush, but now?

Now you needed him.

[alotofrandomfangirling]

hi, could you do a x reader oneshot on live action Roronoa Zoro from the live action One Piece series!

Roronoa Zoro x reader oneshot (Netflix live action)

Summary: you tend to Zoro's wounds after he is hurt on a fight

Warnings: cursing, a bit suggestive, mentions of blood, me pretending to understand medical matters 🤡 (sorry about that, it was for fangirling purposes only ajskajakja)

A/n: hello anon! Thanks a lot for the request 🥰 this is probably set after s1? Sorry for any plot or grammar mistakes 🙏🏻 i hope you like it 🩷

The salty sea breeze hit your skin as you looked out the Going Merry trying to spot your friends.

The straw hats had left to a village to try to confront another crew. Apparently another annoying guy was threatening Luffy and he was not going to let that pass. It was stupid, you thought, but, when Luffy had something in mind, absolutely no one could convince him otherwise.

Luffy had asked you to stay on the ship in case anything happened. Being the crew's doctor, you had to be prepared for any emergency regarding the crew's well being.

Yep, you were the doctor in the straw hats crew.

You had met when Luffy saw you helping hurt people in the middle of a fight at the small island you lived. He was so impressed at how good you were, how you helped everyone with ability but also with a kindness in your eyes that he had never seen before in anyone.

Having lived your entire life with your doctor grandparents, you had learned from them and was just as skilled as them, so you were always ready to help those who needed.

But you were also a dreamer and wanted to go around the world meeting new people and new places, so when Luffy asked you to join his crew you happily said yes.

- we already have a navigator, a cook... we could use a talented doctor like you. I just know it's you. So, what do you say? - he asked, with that excited smile of his.

And that's how you became a part of this special crew. Everyone was so nice to you, so it didn't take much time for you to get along with them all, specially with their cute swordsman.

Yeah, it was like you clicked. You started getting closer, closer... and before you knew you were dating.

That's why you were specially worried today. You were really afraid your boyfriend was going to do something stupid and get himself hurt again (you still had nightmares about the whole Mihawk thing).

You were lost in your thoughts when you heard your friends coming back to the ship. You immediatly ran to check on them.

- is everyone okay? - you asked worried.

- we're fine, we were lucky. Can't say the same about your man over there - Sanji said and your heart dropped. What did this stubborn do this time?

- shut up, Sanji, i'm fine - you heard Zoro say as he entered the ship too.

You ran to him doing a quick check up with your eyes. That's when you noticed the big red stain on the side of his shirt.

- oh my gosh, Zoro, you're bleeding! - you said terrified.

- this? Nah, this is just a scratch - he said shrugging and trying to play tough, even though you could clearly see he was in pain.

- no, it's not! - you said, in a stern way - come on, we have to bandage you up.

You carefully led him inside and brought your medical kit to start tending to his wounds. He sat down as you began.

- take your shirt off - you ordered.

- Wow you're that eager, huh? - he said smirking, but instantly regretting and wincing with pain.

- Zoro! Will you stop being a brat and let me take care of you? - you said angrily - i can see you're in pain and you're not going anywhere until we fix that up!

You were usually a very chill person, but you couldn't stand seeing your friends and loved ones in pain. That activated a side of you people were even a bit scared of lol

- okay, boss - he said, a bit annoyed but finally giving up.

The way he called you 'boss' made you feel all tingly inside. You were sure going to have to talk to him about it later (and maybe share some ideas 👀) but now it wasn't the time. You had a wound to treat.

He took his shirt off and you couldn't help but take in a sharp breath at the sight (even though you had seen it before lol). Boy was sure shredded.

Focus, (Y/N).

You checked him and noticed he had a knife wound just above his hip. It was ugly, but you could do it.

You grabbed a piece of cloth to start cleaning the wound.

- my love, i apologize in advance, but this is going to hurt.

You started the cleaning.

- shit, that hurts! - he hissed.

- i know, i'm sorry.

You knew you had to do it, but you couldn't stand seeing the man you loved suffering like that. You had to distract him out of it so you could finish your work.

- umm baby, could you tell me again about that time you beat three pirates at once with only one sword?

- what? Now? Why? - he looked so cute furrowing his brows in confusion.

- it's just that... i like to work listening to your voice - you quickly made that up lol

Well, it wasn't totally a lie, you did enjoy listening to his voice, but of course it was mostly to keep him distracted ajskjakaja

He was still a bit suspicious but started telling the story since you asked him (trust me, there was nothing you asked Zoro he wouldn't do for you). Your strategy worked cause you cleaned the wound and bandaged it without him wincing too much.

By the time he finished the story, you had finished your work too. You also gave him some painkillers for him to feel better soon.

- there you go - you said softly and kissed his forehead.

He closed his eyes and melted under your touch, not only because of how tired he was, but also because he felt super safe with you.

- thank you, (Y/N) - he said squeezing your hand.

You smiled at him.

- now please lay down and try to rest a bit, or this thing won't heal - you said in a stern tone, but nearly begging for your boyfriend to take care of himself.

You gathered your medical stuff and were starting to leave the room when he said:

- (Y/N), wait!

- what is it? - you asked, worried he was starting to feel pain again.

- I... I might not be feeling 100% yet. I think you should stay and lay down with me just in case it gets worse - he said in a really nonchalant way.

You rolled your eyes at his completely obvious attempt, but couldn't help smiling and blushing a bit at the thought of the great Roronoa Zoro wanting you to stay with him.

- you're the worst, Zoro - you said playfully as you carefully laid down next to him and put your hand on his chest.

- yeah, but you love me - he replied with that smug smile of his and that deep voice that drove you crazy.

You chuckled at his response.

- yes, I do - you said smiling.

His next words came out merely a whisper, but were enough to give you a thousand butterflies in your stomach:

- and I love you more.

[delusionisaplace]

hii could you please do prompts for (highschool) students who have to work together but A is basically a grumpy black cat while B is a golden retriever yk. and like A is “annoyed” by B and wants to push him away but B doesnt budge and wants to be her friend. so sorry if this is confusing😭 i love your work btw, you’re great <3

ahhhhh thank you thank you thank you for your kind words!! here it is:

𝙜𝙧𝙪𝙢𝙥𝙮 𝙭 𝙨𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙚: 𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙥 𝙙𝙮𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙘 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙨

have fun with these :) | if yall want more prompts like this, jus drop an ask nd ill respond as soon as possible | tag me if you use any bc i love seeing what you guys write :))

“How are you always so…happy?” “There’s no point wasting time being sad!”

“Do you know when to stop?” “Not at all!”

“I have to work with you of all people…” “I guess we both got lucky then.”

“Can we just get this project done?”

“Don’t you ever get tired of pretending everything’s fine?” “It’s not pretending if I genuinely feel that way.”

“Can’t you take anything seriously?” “Only when absolutely necessary! Life’s too dull otherwise.”

“I need a new partner.”

“You’re so tiring…”

“Don’t you have anything else to do besides bother me?”

“Have you ever tried smiling? Being positive? Something like that?”

A constantly side eyes B whenever they’re together (despite the fact that they’re getting used to B’s positivity)

"I don’t understand how you can smile all the time." "Frowns take too much energy."

“Hey, I finally made you laugh!” “That was a scoff, that doesn’t count.”

B finding A outside of class to have lunch, using their project as an excuse.

B always walking with A just to talk, even if A just sighs and rolls their eyes.

"You never seem to stop laughing…are you okay?”

B inviting A to do things with them and hang out with their friends just because they don’t want A to be alone.

“Your smile is starting to scare me…can you like, stop?” “Never!”

B opening up to A at random moments, just say that A knows that they can do the same if they ever want to.

“Are you ever gonna stop trying to be my friend?” “Nope! Might as well just accept it now.”

stop bc i had so many ideas for this im def gonna use some of these in lotstr 😭

[jazminrhode1]

can you please please do a fic where they are on the podcast and they have matt or chris' gf on the podcast and they talk about their relationship and it's really cute and the guy is just so in lvoe? omg please i need this haha

Forever Be Your Always Matt Sturniolo x Reader One Shot

“Good morning, campers. Welcome back to the cut the camera podcast,” Nick feigned enthusiasm, “can you believe we’re still doing this?”

You sat in Matt’s regular spot, kind of nervous and kind of excited.

You never did this. You never got involved with the triplet’s content. Matt had filmed countless vlogs for his personal channel with you that he never posted. Not because he was embarrassed or wanted to hide your relationship but, because he didn’t want to add fuel to the fire.

The fans were fine. They had no choice but to be fine. You and Matt had been dating since before they started YouTube. You were in more of their videos in the early days but, you kept out of it these days.

Nick was the one who suggested you come on the podcast. He was sick of editing you out of content. Chris was the one who said they should take a stand and let fans know that they weren’t going to ignore the hate that you get online anymore.

It didn’t really bother you. Not matter what anyone said, Matt was still your boyfriend, Nick and Chris were still some of your best friends.

“Today we’re here with a very special guest,” Nick gestured to Matt to finish the intro.

“It’s y/n” Matt announced as Chris and Nick cheers.

“Thanks, you guys,” you laughed. This felt more natural than you had expected. After a while you forgot that the microphones were even there.

You answer questions that Matt had answered a million times before. Where did you meet? How long have you been dating? What is your favorite thing about each other?

Chris claimed that he got the two of you together and, to be honest, you couldn’t remember if that was true. All you knew was that you were thankful for Matt everyday.

“Okay, fans want to know what it’s like dating the grumpiest motherfucker on the planet,” Nick asked.

You rolled your eyes.

“Matt is not that grumpy. Really, he’s not. You just get so animated for the vlogs, and sometimes you do too much - I don’t think he likes that,” you answered. Nick pretended to take offence but, you two had never been anything but honest with eachother. And, you knew that Nick’s energy is was a hgue part of why they had been so successful.

“Another fan wanted to know if this is the kind of relationship that your younger self would have pictured,” Chris asked.

“That’s a great question,” you said and the boys agreed.

“I mean, we’ve known each other for so long. Almost all of my memories have one of you in them. Like, our moms are so close, our Dad’s golf together, my Uncle was just at your Grandma’s house doing some electrical stuff. You know, we’ve vacationed together. There’s just so much shared history even before we started dating. I don’t know that a lot of people can say that they met their partner at 5 years old and started dating 10 years later. That doesn’t answer your question.” 

You thought it over for a moment.

“I think when I was younger, I thought that someone would come along and sweep me off my feet. I didn’t think it would be my desk buddy from the second grade, you know?”

Matt just smiled. For him, he always knew.

“But, I could not have dreamt him up. I don’t think you could have convinced a younger me that I would get this lucky. That I would have found my person at 15 years old or that our families would become so entangles or that his brothers would become 2 of my best friends, you know”?

“Yeah,” Chris said. His eyes glistened.

“Another question was, do you feel like you missed out on anything since you started dating Matt at such a young age?” Nick asked.

“It’s a fair questions but, no. Even our parents when we graduated were like… are you sure you don’t want to live life separately for a little while, and that was just never on the cards for me.”

“And, Matt what about you? Do you feel like you missed out on anything?” Nick asked.

“No. I have gained more that I could have imagined from being with y/n,” he began. “I feel like I will go through my whole life as a triplet being understood by two other people in this unspoken, unexplainable way. And, in the best way, we were kind of forced together by nature and you are two of the closest people to me and, even if I don’t say it often, I love you guys and I wouldn’t be here with out.”

Chris and Nick exchanged a look. Matt wasn’t usually as forthcoming with his feelings if it wasn’t with you.

“In saying that, I don’t believe in soul mate or destiny because that implies that I don’t have a choice in this. Everyday, I wake up and I thank God that it’s next to y/n. And every day it’s the easiest choice to be with her. And every choice that I make, I consider her above anyone else.I don’t want a relationship, a marriage, a family if it wasn’t with y/n. There is no one else that understands me or supports me or loves me in the way that y/n does. You can’t put a price on that and you can’t manufacture it and if, for whatever reason, we were to break up I know that I will never find this again,” Matt said as he reached for you hand over the bench.

You saw a glint of sadness wash over Chris’ face. Nick was swooning.

“Do you think you guys will get married?” Nick asked. He was straying from the previously agreed up list of questions.

“One day. If there is one thing that y/n’s Dad told me is to enjoy every season. Enjoy being a kind, enjoy dating as teenagers, dating as young adults, don’t rush things because you’ll get to the end of your life and regret not really living in the moment,” Matt said.

“Your Dad’s so smart,” Chris said.

“Yeah, he and Matt are big on the motivational speeches,” you joked.

You answered a few more questions about future plans and Matt’s unpublished vlogs. Chris went on a non-sensical rant about not wanting a girlfriend while simultaneously wanting a relationship that you and Matt had. You knew that he was only scared that the girl he dated would only want to be with him because of his job. You knew that would break his heart.

As they wrapped up and you crawled out from behind the desk, Matt wrapped you in a hug and placed a gentle kiss on your lips.

Without saying a word, you knew how deeply he loved. Everything is better with him and he will forever be your always.

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

hi!! i have a platonic req for miguel x chaotic teen reader who has a bad relationship with her dad, just a man who lost his daughter and a girl who never had a proper father.. what could go wrong..(im a slut for found family)

𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐚 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Platonic!Reader

Summary: After a really bad fight with your father, you escape to HQ, the one place you can find solace. To take your mind off things, you go on a mission with Miguel, but it seems you're a little too in your head.

Warnings: Arguments, swearing, and violence in the beginning so be cautious.

A/N: Finally back with some good ol' hurt/comfort, and found family :3

✧✧✧✧✧

“I’m sick and tired of having the same argument with you over and over again!” you say, the anger rising in your veins as your frustration bubbles over. You blink harshly as you try to force the angry tears down, your father seething angrily in front of you.

“Ever since Mom died, you’ve been unbearable. I’m an adult, you can’t control my life anymore pretending like it's love when I know damn well you don’t give a flying fuck about me,” you say, pointing an angry finger at him.

“WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE TALKING TO,” he shouts, stomping over and grasping your hair harshly as you let out a yelp.

“I give you a roof to live under, food to eat. I raised you, I am your father, and you think you can back talk me you brat?” he spits in your face, and your recoil in disgust.

It was always like this. He justified giving you the bare minimum as being a father, when the house you lived in was never really a home. Not after your Mom died, when everything fell apart.

When you became your world’s Spiderman.

“You were a spectator in my life, you were never truly my father,” you whisper harshly as his grip tightens on your hair. His eyes narrow at yours before he throws you to the ground harshly.

“Get out,” he says.

“W-what?” you ask, your body radiating with pain from the impact.

“GET OUT!” he shouts, leaning over you menacingly. “You think you’re so grown, then get the fuck out of my house because I am sick and tired of you. You don’t think I’m your father? Then I won’t be. You’re lucky your whore of a mother wanted to keep you around because in my eyes you were always my one worst mistake,” he says, and his words hit you like a freight train.

You knew he never loved you. Even before your Mom died he never truly seemed to like you around, only tolerated you because of how much your Mom adored you.

When she died, the substance abuse began. You practically raised yourself and learned how cold the world truly was. You never knew the love of your father, but even still, it hurt to hear him say what you always understood deep down.

“Fine,” you say softly, standing up and opening a portal to HQ. His eyes widen as he watches, but you don’t even give a damn anymore if he sees.

You were never going to see him again anyway.

In an instant, you were gone.

~

You emerge on the other side, right into the lobby of the Spider Society. A few familiar faces recognize you, waving in greeting. You wave back with a smile that doesn’t quite meet your eyes.

“Hey Lyla?” you call out, and she appears hovering over your shoulder with a grin.

“What’s poppin', buttercup?” she says cheerfully, and the corner of your mouth quirks up a bit.

“I was just wondering if Miguel was around,” you say, and she reappears in front of your face.

“He was actually about to leave for a mission, want me to tell him to wait up?” she asks, and you nod.

“That would be great, thanks,” you say, letting out a soft sigh of relief.

“Already done, you know where to find him,” she says, before throwing up a peace sign and disappearing.

Miguel was…you didn’t exactly know what to call him. A mentor? A friend? Guardian maybe?

All you knew was that (despite a rocky start), he was one of the few people across the multiverse that you truly trusted. He was harsh at times, rough around the edges and gruff…but he was like a light you’ve never known.

You both had your baggage, and you have both lost a lot in your lives, but maybe that’s why it worked. Whatever it was.

“Miguel?” you call out, looking around the monitoring room. He wasn’t on his usual platform which was odd. All of a sudden you get that familiar tingle on the back of your neck, and you whip around.

“HOLY GODS,” you exclaim as you see him hovering in the shadows like a wraith ready to leap out for the attack. “What are you doing?!”

He only chuckles at your expense, walking out with an amused grin on his face.

“Just making sure your reflexes are working properly,” he states simply.

“By giving me a heart attack in the process?” you say with an exaggerated frown, and he snorts.

“Don’t be dramatic, besides, you make stupid faces when you get scared,” he says, and you gasp offendedly.

“Well, you always look stupid so beat that,” you retort, and his hand grasps his chest dramatically.

“How could you? After everything we’ve been through, you think I look stupid?” he says, and you can’t help the breathy laughter that escapes. But before long the smile is replaced by a frown.

You could never really hide your emotions around him, he could always read you too well.

“You alright, kiddo?” he asks. He tried to mask his concern, but his eyes never lied.

“Never better!” you say, your tone overly sarcastic. Miguel eyes you with an expression that says ‘That’s a load of shit’, but you just brush him off with a nervous chuckle.

“You were about to go on a mission right? Can I come along? Cool, great, awesome,” you say, not even waiting for his reply. You press a button on the back of your neck that replaces your clothes with your Spider Suit and turn to look at him expectantly.

“Let’s just pack this guy up, in and out right?” you say, and he sighs.

“Fine, you can come along,” he relents, opening up a portal.

“You do realize I was going to come along either way, right?” you say, and he shakes his head knowingly.

“I know, you have the stubbornness of a bull but it helps me feel at least somewhat like the leader of the Society if I get the final say,” he says, his voice almost small which makes you laugh out loud.

“There, there,” you say, patting his shoulder as the two of your approach the portal together. “Everyone around here respects your authority,” you say with a grin before your mask covers your face.

“Except you,” he scoffs.

“Except me,” you say in turn.

~

“So what’s the deal with this anomaly?” you ask as the two of you emerge on the other side, not wanting to go in completely blind if you didn’t have to. You were reckless, but you weren’t completely stupid.

“Came in through a tear from Earth-848710. Has the power to manipulate metal to his advantage. At the height of his powers he has the ability to control even the iron in our blood so watch out,” he instructs.

“Ooh, freaky. What, like blood bending in Avatar: The Last Airbender?” you ask, and a confused expression washes over Miguel’s face which makes you giggle a bit.

“Like what?”

“Oh Miguel, don’t worry, we’ll binge watch it later, just you wait,” you reply before the back of your neck tingles, and you sling a web up onto the ceiling, yanking you up off the ground.

Just in time, because in the place that you once were stood a beam of metal impaled into the ground.

“Holy shit!” you yelp, and Miguel is swinging right up beside you.

“That’s our cue then. On your toes, spiderling,” he says, and you grin. You don’t exactly remember when he started saying that phrase to you, but it was standard procedure before every fight for him to say it now.

“You got it, old man,” you snicker, and he rolls his eyes before swinging away, allowing you to analyze the villain down below.

His pillars were optimal at a range, so close combat was likely your best bet at beating the guy.

“You gonna hang up there all day, little thing? C’mon, give me a real fight,” the villain calls up to you tauntingly, and you scoff. Of course, he was going to be annoying, just what you needed.

“I’m just trying to find the quickest way to take your annoying ass down and believe me, it will happen,” you retort, swinging down before levelling him with a kick into his gut before he could react. He groans out in pain as you see Miguel send out his webbing from the corner of your eye.

But the villain seemed to notice it as well, using a shard of metal to slice it away before it could reach him.

“You think it’d be that easy, I’ve spent my whole life fighting so-called ‘heroes’ like you,” he scoffs.

“All that says to me is that you’re old,” you snicker, and he scoffs before sending a beam of metal toward you again. You leap out of the way just in time, but the villain picks up the pace.

Ear-scrapingly loud screeches of metal can be heard from all around as he pulls support beam after support beam out of the building to throw at you and Miguel.

“Where’s all that confidence from earlier, little hero?” he calls out toward you. “I thought you were going to take me down, yet here I stand. Maybe you’re weaker than you thought,” he laughs, and you narrow your eyes in annoyance.

You know you shouldn’t lead with your emotions, it was a recipe for disaster in a job like this but you couldn’t help it.

“Enough of this-” you seethe before you’re interrupted.

“THE BUILDING IS FALLING APART,” you hear Miguel shout, and it was true. With each support beam that the villain ripped from the frame, the more unstable the place became. You had to get this guy packed up and pronto, before you all were crushed.

“I’m tired of your games, anomaly,” you huff, levelling him with a glare.

“Why so serious? Your parents never hug you enough as a kid?” the villain says mockingly. You knew it was only to get a rise out of you, every comment of his was, but with your emotions already on high, you immediately saw red.

Everything you had bottled up and shoved down bubbled over like lava, and you lunged for the villain with a snarl.

You threw punch after punch as he cried out in pain, unable to do anything with your webs trapping him in place.

That’s when you feel webs that weren’t your own wrapping around your shoulders, yanking you off of the villain. You yank at the bonds, desperately trying to escape the fluorescent red webbing.

“Let me go, let me go! Let me finish him, Miguel,” you cry out, but he ignores you for a moment.

He shoves the villain through the newly opened portal without a second thought, knowing Jess would handle it on the other side before turning back to you.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey!” he says as he grabs your shoulders, holding you in place as he retracts the webbing. You wriggle around in his grasp, chest heaving with each breath as tears brim over in your eyes. He looks at you with concern, just scanning over you to make sure you were alright before truly looking at you. It made you feel small as you struggled to hold back your sobs.

His eyes only softened, clicking your mask off before brushing his hand gently over your hair, and it only made you want to cry even more.

“C’mere kid,” he says, pulling you into a hug. You exhale shakily before hugging him back tightly, the tears you had been holding back all day finally falling down.

He was so warm…his arms embracing you gently in the way your real father never could.

You stood there in his arms for a few minutes, sobbing into his chest while he just held you gently. After a little while your sobs subsided, replaced with the occasional sniffle before you pull away, looking off to the side sheepishly.

“Do you want to tell me what’s really bothering you now, mi tesoro,” he asks gently, not wanting to push you to say something you didn’t want to.

You only sigh softly, glancing back only to see the worry in his eyes before relenting.

“I don’t have a good relationship with my father…you know this,” you smile sadly, and he only nods, waiting for you to continue.

“We got into a really bad argument before I came here, and well, I don’t really have a father anymore. He kicked me out,” you sniffle. “And I know it shouldn’t bother me as much as it does, because he never cared for me like a parent should but it still hurts Miguel,” you say, your eyes tearing up again. He smiles sadly at you, brushing away a tear gently.

“I’m sorry, mi ángel,” he says, not really knowing what else to say. “But don't blame yourself for feeling what you feel. You can't help it, and besides, losing all that you knew, even if it hurt you is still difficult," he says, and you nod knowing that what he said was true. It wasn't easy to accept though, so you don't say anything in response.

"...You do know you always have a home here, don’t you?” he says, and you laugh softly to yourself, not really knowing why.

“I do?” you ask, and he chuckles fondly.

“Always,” he says before his eyes grow distant for a moment. “…I lost Gabriella a long time ago, I never really recovered from that loss…I don’t think I ever will. But I do believe that the universe sent me you in turn. You won’t ever be her, I know that. But you don’t have to be, because I care for you like a child of my own regardless. You know that, don’t you?” he says, the genuineness of his words evident.

“Thank you,” you whisper, hugging him tightly once more. “I have never felt more safe in my life than when I’m with you," you admit.

He only smiles, and for a moment you think you can see the glimmer of tears in his red eyes but figured it must have been a trick of the light.

“Let’s head back to HQ, kiddo. We can figure out some place for you to stay, alright?” he says, and you nod before pausing for a moment.

“Could I…stay with you?” you ask hesitantly, and his eyes widen for a moment.

“If that’s what you’d like, it can be arranged,” he says before laughing softly. “My house has always been too big for just one person anyway.” Immediately your expression brightens as you skip toward the open portal, a large grin on your face.

“I would like that very much.”

✧✧✧✧✧

A/N: Good gods it has literally been almost 2 weeks since I last posted. I'm so sorry, life has been kicking my ass but I'm back!! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading <33

Taglist: @beiroviski, @scaraza, @blueoorchid, @remuslupinwifee, @local-mr-frog, @johfaam0, @rawegggohan, @honeycriess, @alexenoirex, @chimpkinnuggies, @rqdior, @banana—belle, @notasadgirlipromise, @6billionyearsold, @gods-perfectidiot, @ieatmunson, @honeii-puff, @wh0re4zaynmalik, @toplinehyunjin, @ohworm-writes, @ishii03, @snowywhiterose, @leftcupcakedefendor

[jasntodds]

Penace [5]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Words: 13,401

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, a little bit of angst, some fluff, mentions of death, panic attack (jason), ptsd (jason), hurt/comfort, mention of scars

Summary: ❝Thesus: Stop. Give me your hand. I am your friend. Herakles: I fear to stain your clothes with blood. Thesus: Stain them. I don’t care.❞

It’s been a month and a half since Crane’s reign of terror was stopped, leaving Gotham to finally return to normal. But, what is normal? After everything Jason and you have been through, it seems normal might be some unobtainable dream state. But that’s not going to stop either of you from trying and maybe, you’ll get lucky in the end. At the end of it, the two of you have suffered enough, right?

Right?

A/N: I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to update!! I had a bunch of stuff going on last month and stuff happened and I just did not have the mental capacity to edit this chapter. I'm so sorry!! You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary  and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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The next morning rolls around leaving Jason to wake up first. You're still sound asleep facing him, some of your hair covering your face. Jason takes a tentative finger and moves some of the strands from your face. He takes this time to exist. Sleep always came easier when you were around. Less nightmares, not as much tossing and turning, no insomnia. It was always easier with you around and last night was no different.

You fell asleep first just as you usually did when he read to you. You were cuddled into his side and it felt like it always did for that half hour. Just the two of you in bed together with a book and enough trauma for the both of you. Jason thinks you're both really good at being able to exist in a moment as if nothing happened. There's something in you that allows you both to ignore it all even for a few minutes and just pretend to be who you were before instead of just skin and bones.

The world, people, expect you both to be something specific, to act a certain way. You told him once, in a sort of one-off conversation, you felt like people expected something different. At the tower, you always felt like the others expected you to remain quiet or be angry all the time, to snap at some point. Maybe you did. But, your blood was never filled with anger but grief for what you should have been able to have. When Jason died and you got angry, they expected the silence. They expected the grief to hit you like a train. They expected you to quit, get revenge on the Joker before Bruce did. They expected more than rage-filled blood and red-stained hands. And they expected you to move on because what else was there to do? He was dead. And you were alone. People put up expectations and in some ways you feel like you need to meet some of them. Be more careful, get angry, snap, pretend like it's all fine because it's always been fine. But, then you lay down with Jason and you can watch movies and talk about your mom and you can exist in a way that you want without the weight of expectations collapsing your lungs.

Everyone thinks Jason is angry, always has even before he died. He was never angry. He was upset and hurt and didn't know where to put it. He was never angry but everyone expected him to be so he played into it. They expected him to be some sort of fuck boy so he played into it. They expected him to be reckless and so he was. Maybe he was always a little reckless, no one forced him to rob the Batmobile or go with the red hoods when he was a teenager. But they expect it. And now...Jason can feel it. They expect him to lose his mind and until then, they expect him to be fine. He lived, right? Joker is dead, Bruce avenged his death, and he was brought back. He should be fine, right?

They expect him to be fine without ever considering the scars lingering on his chest or marking up his mind like scuffed up wood. But with you, there are no expectations. He is allowed to read and tell you about theater stuff. He is allowed to have nightmares and be scared. He is allowed to just be. When Jason is around you, he's allowed to exist in a way that he wants without the weight of expectations strangling the life out of him.

Maybe that's why you can exist in moments like these as if nothing ever happened. It is the only time neither of you are facing some false hope of expectations. It is the only time you both can be damaged in all your glory. It is the only time you're allowed to bear your scars with pride and show the beauty they've left behind. You can just...be.

He eyes you softly, brows pinched together and you look so peaceful. He wants nothing more than to pull you into him and sleep like this all day. But it is not his place. He's surprised you stayed in the first place let alone stayed in bed with him. He is so glad you did but there is so much you haven't talked about. So much happened and there's just so much between you. He wonders if you'll ever be able to recover or if this is all you'll be. Just a one-off sleepover sometimes.

He doesn't like that idea very much.

Jason forces himself to get out of bed and make his way to the training area where he keeps his fridge. He expects to be able to grab a few eggs and make an omelet, see what else he has and maybe he could make you (and Tim) pancakes. But, as he enters the room, Tim is seated at the table with a tablet open and his brows pinched together.

"Oh, hey." Tim chimes, offering Jason a wave and a glance before he looks back to the tablet. "I made toast and a pot of coffee." Tim explains.

Jason scratches his head before he shakes it and fully enters the room. "Right, yeah, okay." Jason clears his throat, trying to get rid of the sleep still etched in his tone. "Did you even fucking sleep?"

"Yeah, of course." Tim brushes the question, voice still chipper and a part of it reminds Jason of how Gar usually was at the tower. "Early riser."

"A roof fell on top of you last night." Jason states as he walks over to the coffee pot seeing about a quarter of a cup left. He lets out a sigh before he dumps the pot in the sink and starts a fresh pot.

"Oh, yeah but I'm fine." Tim shakes it off.

Jason can almost hear your voice in his head telling him to push for an answer. A roof fell on top of him and his boyfriend is in a coma. Jason does not buy for a single second that he's simply an early riser. No one is an early riser with this job, not if you want more than three hours of sleep a night. It would be responsible of him to ask Tim if he were okay.

"Seriously, you alright?" Jason asks as he leans against the table to face Tim.

Tim looks up at him and while he knew some of Jason before, this is different. The most of Jason he knows is actually Red Hood related. You didn't talk a lot about him when you hung out and he only spoke to Jason a handful of times, usually about his order at Excellent Gotham. There wasn't much said about Bruce Wayne's newest son. Instead, he knows Red Hood is ruthless, brutal, and scary. He is intimidating and will kill someone if need be. He knows Red Hood almost got his dad killed and almost got you killed and got Dick killed. His association with Crane got him killed. Tim knows Red Hood is someone he wants on his side because if he's not, that could be for the worst.

But, he's looking at Jason Todd who happens to be Red Hood and in this moment he doesn't feel like any of those things. He feels like he did when you introduced him. Normal. Calm. Nice. Tim knew there was more to Red Hood. Not only did he meet Jason and he trusts your general opinion of people, but Tim doesn't believe anyone is as two-dimensional as they may seem. Yet, some part of him almost feels surprised with Jason asking if he's okay but it doesn't feel like it's out of obligation. Instead, it feels like he might actually be genuinely concerned.

"Yeah, no, I'm fine." Tim answers. "Just..." Tim lets out a breath. "Gar said they haven't made any progress with Bernard. And I'm here..." Tim trails off. "Almost getting crushed by a roof and getting trained by you and y/n."

Jason pushes off the table as the coffee pot dings. "You've only been here like two days." Jason states as he makes his way back over to the coffee. "How'd it happen?" Jason asks as he starts to pour himself a cup, making sure to leave enough for you.

"Some video game thing that Brother Blood released." Tim groans. "No one knows how to get anyone out of their comas."

"Look," Jason starts as he walks back over to Tim. "That fucking sucks, alright? But, you and the Titans will figure it out. You're a genius, man." Jason lets out this scoff that comes out as a chuckle. "The way I see it, all those people and Bernard are lucky to have you looking out for 'em."

"Yeah, except I suck at this." Tim lets out a groan, tilting his head back. "I mean, Dick was...incredible. He was so good at this whole thing and he still is. And then you took over and you were just as great." Tim pauses for a few seconds as Jason watches the defeat start to wash over his features. "How am I supposed to live up to that when I can't even get any intel on this guy? When I can't even figure out a damn video game?!"

"Didn't you choose to be Robin?" Jason asks.

"Yeah but y/n said—"

"I died as Robin." Jason cuts him off because it doesn't matter what you said or didn't say. Jason knows Tim is going to be great at this. "Don't take what she says to heart too much. Her viewpoint of Robin will always be tainted because I died. Because it involved Bruce. You chose this, man." Jason points a finger at him. "No one else is crazy enough to do that, not after me. But you did. That means something. Don't get in your head about it, alright? You're smart as fuck and you're capable."

"But what if I was wrong?" Tim asks knowing it takes a special kind of confidence to not only volunteer to be Robin following Dick and Jason but to have the confidence he could do it.

"Dick wouldn't have asked you to be Robin if he thought you were." Jason says it so simply. "We were trained by Bruce for months before we put on the mask and cape, just remember that." Jason states as he takes a sip of his coffee.

"Thank you." Tim offers a soft smile. "Didn't think you'd be the pep talk kind of guy."

"I'm not." Jason lets out a booming cackle. "So don't go telling people I am."

Tim lets out a soft laugh before he locks the tablet. "She still sleeping?" He decides not to push his luck and changes subject, surprised not to see Sam yet.

Jason nods softly. "Yeah, letting her sleep."

"She doesn't sleep a lot, that's what Gar said...that Molly said."

"Yeah..." Jason pulls in a breath as his heart starts to break. "Comes with the job sometimes." Jason only half-lies.

"She's sleeping now." Tim gains a cheeky smile.

"Shut up." Jason groans and he not getting into any of that with Tim. Nope. "Did you want something more than toast?" Jason immediately changes subject before Tim can try to return the pep talk favor for relationship advice. "Toast is a shit breakfast." Jason puts his Wonder Woman mug down before he gets up.

Tim offers a chuckle. "Uh...yeah, I could eat something else."

Jason looks through some cabinets and the fridge. "Omelet or pancakes?"

"Omelet?" Tim questions softly. "Didn't think I'd have an option." Tim did not thnk Jason could really cook, given the whole eggs, beer, and cheese comment.

"Was making both anyway." Jason retorts. He's just trying to be nice.

Tim lets out a laugh. "Oh, I get it."

"If you don't shut up, we won't train today." Jason almost wants to shut his head in the fridge door with his comment. Who the fuck is he? Dick? Gar? Ugh.

Meanwhile, you're finally stirring awake to an empty and cold bed. Your hand reaches over and you feel the spot where Jason was is cold. Your eyes peek open to see he's no longer there or even in the room. It's not that you should have expected him to be you think but there's a part of you that's still disappointed. Somewhere in your head you almost hoped you'd wake up together and you'd have one of your awkward realizations together. You'd stumble over yourselves and your words but it'd feel like home. It'd be warm and comfortable anyway. And then you'd find your footing where it almost felt safest, in the mix of bantering and flirting. But, he's gone. You're not sure that feeling is something you'd ever be able to get used to.

But, you get up anyway, stretching before you get out of bed. You grab one of Jason's hoodies from the table, tugging it over your head as you walk out of the room. You head to the room with the fridge that you're not sure you should really call a kitchen since there's all the training equipment in there, too. Why is he like this?

As you get closer, you hear Jason's laughter bouncing off the walls. Your heart skips a beat and you don't even notice the way the corners of your mouth perk up into a tender smile. You pause just to listen for a few seconds while his laughter subsides and he goes on with his story. He tells Tim some story about a fight with the Riddler and how mad he was. You've heard the story before but hearing him talk so casually and lightly about his Robin days makes you want to burst.

In the few times you've talked of Robin, there's been a sense of bitterness and sadness surrounding the mantle but now he's laughing and joking. He has stories that aren't tied with grief and pain. Robin always meant the entire world to him and you're so happy he seems to still have some of that joy telling the stories. You think maybe he is getting better. Maybe Leslie really is helping him again.

"Welcome back to the land of the living." Jason quips as you walk into the room.

You clear your throat sarcastically. "Get fucked."

Jason flips you off with a tender smile while Tim lets out a laugh.

"Guess I won't make you pancakes then." Jason shrugs dramatically and you know it's a hollow threat but it is also not a chance you're willing to take.

Your eyes narrow slightly before a smile comes to your lips again. "Do not get fucked."

Jason tilts his head and lets out a laugh. "Dunno, think it'll help?"

You shake your head. "You are a bit uptight."

"Look who's fucking talking." Jason waves the spatula at her.

"I am so not uptight." You laugh as you take a seat beside Tim.

"Well." Tim adds in with a shake of his head and the scrunch of his nose.

"The fuck does that mean, Tim?" Your eyes widen at him.

Tim's eyes widen slightly back at her before he quickly looks to Jason. He might help him with Robin but if he wants to go back and forth with you on this front, that's all him. Jason will let him sink. He knows exactly which side he should always be on and it's wherever you are.

"You're on your own." Jason chimes, waving a spatula in the air as he turns back to the stove, the first batch of pancakes already on the burner.

"Nothing." Tim shakes his head with a smile.

"Right." You laugh softly as you roll your eyes.

Jason walks over with a mug in hand. He hands it off to you and your brows quickly raise seeing it's your Supergirl mug from the manor. You packed and moved but forgot the mug. While things aren't...bad per se, between you and Bruce, you did not go back for anything you forgot and you almost laugh. You may not have gone back but clearly Jason at the very least took your mug, likely with the intention to give it to Molly to give to you.

"Thank you." You hold your mug up to him as he goes to walk away.

"You're welcome." Jason gives you a bright and cheeky smile.

"So, what're we going today?" You ask the boys while Jason finishes breakfast.

"I really got to find this Venta guy and get back." Tim states.

"Figure we'll eat, train a bit, then help Tim here try to get some intel." Jason explains, finishing the pancakes before he moves onto the omelets.

"Sounds good." You suck in a breath, pulling out your phone to send a quick text to Molly to let her know you're awake and what the plan is.

Jason finishes up your breakfast before joining you and Tim at the table with three plates in hand, a delicate balancing act on his way. Tim offers a quick thank you before digging in, the toast clearly not holding him over too well. You offer Jason a tender smile before you dig in. Your chest warms and your skin bursts with goosebumps knowing Jason made pancakes for you.

Jason offers such a specific type of subtle kindness that seems to be overlooked by a lot of people. It's not so much in his words which after all this time, you figured out it's just because he's not too good at expressing himself most of the time. For him, actions say everything that gets caught in his throat. And it's not just with you he does it with. Bruce preferred his omelet differently and Jason never even asked, he always just made an extra one with the things Bruce liked. Gar mentioned he was looking for a few Saga comics and Jason found them and shipped them to Titans tower just because he could. He always offers to help Molly with anything she's working on. He extends his kindness with actions just to display how much he cares about the people who offer him the same kindness.

You think it's one of your favorite things about him.

The three of you finish up your food and get changed for training. The three of you take your time stretching and getting ready to allow your food to settle a little. Training starts just as it did yesterday, Jason taking the first round and then you. Tim still doesn't stand a chance but you and Jason can already see some improvement the longer you train which comes as a big relief. 

After training, the three of you get suited up and head out, deciding to go to the marina this time. Tim rides with you, hoping to find something out tonight. He feels like he's running out of time. Meanwhile, you and Jason are looking to see how he does not in a training room with a safety net. A roof fell on him last night and he seems incredibly unbothered. To you, it only feels right to have him out on the streets anyway, even if it's under false pretenses. So, while you're "looking" for Venta or trying to get intel on him, you're also patrolling, showing Tim the ropes, teaching him the art of grappling between buildings. This is all just more training, making sure he'll be safe out there in the open without the security blanket of you and Jason or the Titans or being in one location. Jason and you think Tim will be just fine. He's smart and capable, he pays attention. This is not a game to him.

It matters.

It always mattered to Dick and Jason, too but it's different with Tim. Bruce offered Robin to Dick and Jason. They were his sons. Batman and Robin. They had months and months of training and while it was hard and brutal at times, there was something that felt magical about the whole thing. It felt surreal. With Tim, it's as if he feels he is obligated to fill the role. Unlike Dick and Jason, Tim chose it and there's somehow more pressure in that for him to prove himself. Tim is generally someone who can focus on things that are important and serious, but this is different. It is his life. It's the life of innocent people. He's having fun, sure, but he's taking it even more seriously than Jason and Dick ever did. It doesn't help he's trying to fill their shoes, something Jason does understand.

After hours of looking and patrolling, you don't turn anything up and head back to Jason's. Tim is incredibly disappointed by his inability to find anything out but you and you assure him that if Venta were in town or if anyone knew anything, they would have spilled with the two of you being around anyway. Between the three of you, someone would have told you some sort of information. You both remind him how easy it was to get information from the people you did question about other cases. Some people are harder but getting intel on one person rarely ever results in no answers. The reassurance does make Tim feel a little bit better about it.

While Tim is feeling a bit better and you're confident in his abilities, feeling pretty good actually, the case is not the same for Jason. Some days are just better than others and today is not one of those days. Waking up with you was refreshing but he's finding that to be the best part of his day because Tim put on the Robin suit. Jason isn't mad or bitter about it. It has nothing to do with it but something about it is causing him anxiety. Something about seeing Tim in the suit, or maybe just another rendition of the suit, makes him want to explode and run and cry and scream. He's been biting it down all day because it's his problem not Tim's. He hates it but something about it is pulling him back to Amusement Mile. Something about it is pulling him back to the anti-fear drug and Cran'e reign. Something about it is making him feel so small and useless. He thought he was making progress but you're back at his home and he's never felt so disconnected from everything. He thinks it's so dumb to feel upset and panicky over this.

He swears it's fine.

"I'm gonna shower." Jason clears his throat before excusing himself to head off to his bedroom as quickly as he can, trying not to raise any alarms.

Your eyes linger on the doorway. Jason might as well have run out of the door with how quickly he excused himself. You heard a slight tremble in his voice. It was sharper than usual and his steps weren't as light as they usually are.

"Is he okay?" Tim asks as he walks over to grab the suitcase for his suit.

You look back at Tim and nod once. During your patrol, you could tell something switched. Jason's been in a good mood and pretty casual about everything, generally speaking. Being in a good mood and things going well always seemed to poke a hole into his head a bit. And today, out there doing your thing, he was quieter, more focused. He's always focused but this was laserlike almost and you're supposed to be helping Tim. You'd make some sort of quip and all you'd get is a disguised chuckle from behind his helmet. If you know anything, it's knowing Jason Todd is in fact, not fine.

"Yeah, no I'm sure he's fine." You brush it off, figuring you'll check on him in a few minutes. "I kept him up pretty late so he's just tired, probably." You nod again, Tim not buying any of it.

"He was up before you were." Tim states as he walks back over to you with his case. "It's not my business, just..." Tim shrugs dramatically, showing genuine concern for Jason's well-being.

Your eyes go to your boots and then back to him. "Yeah, uh...yeah." You nod your head. "I'll check on him in a few minutes. I'm sure he's fine, Tim." You offer him a fake smile.

Jason's head is spinning while his arms are practically vibrating themselves from his body. His muscles are going so weak he can barely turn the water on for a shower. The air is thick and stale through his lungs, burning with every breath. His stomach twists and his eyes start to water despite his best efforts to stop it. The world around him starts to feel like it's closing in and suffocating the life from his lungs. The shower pelts the porcelain flooring, he swears he can hear you and Tim talking and walking from down the hall. His heartbeat is radiating through his ear canals and the passing cars sound like they might drive right through his new home. Everything is growing louder and louder and the thoughts start to kick in. They take a battering ram to the walls and that's when he can't even bear to stand anymore.

Jason carries the heartbreak of death on his shoulders and it is crushing every part of him.

Tim leaves you to go change and you follow his lead, heading for a bathroom. You take your time, giving Jason enough time to gather himself if he needs to before you go to check on him. And for a second, you almost even second-guess it. You haven't spoken in a month and a half, you're just now trying this whole friend thing, is it really your place? When Tim leaves, will you just go back to not talking with no obligation in the middle of you? What if you're wrong anyway? Maybe Jason has changed a little bit in this time and maybe he was just more focused because a roof fell on all of you yesterday. You run yourself in circles, not wanting to overstep and mind his space. Jason always liked his personal space, maybe a little too much but you don't want to intrude. You always felt like you were just intruding in people's lives, a mismatched puzzle piece trying to make yourself fit. It's not what you want to do to him.

Being around him was one of the only places you felt like you belonged. And Jason was the one that always made you feel that way.

You make your way to Jason's room once you're in your regular clothes because you can't bear not to check on him. He would do it for you and you know him. Despite it all, you're certain you always know when something isn't quite right with him. So, you make your way to his room and let yourself inside, shutting the door behind you.

You can hear the shower echoing from the en suite bathroom. The door is closed but you're relieved that he's in the shower and not losing his entire mind in his bed. You look around his room some more and you wonder what else he plans to do with it. You think it must feel more like a home than the manor did. Back at the Tower, he had some stuff on the walls that he picked up because the room was his. He graffitied the walls. It was his and it felt like his. But, the room in the manor still had a poster of the Flying Graysons. Jason didn't decorate the walls, something that always made you sad because it should have felt like a home to him. You never asked but you wondered why it didn't. It couldn't have just been Bruce because of how Jason views him. So, you wonder if it was because maybe he didn't think he deserved the manor or maybe it was that he felt like a replacement and someone else would come in to replace him anyway. Maybe it was a safety precaution for his own feelings of being left behind. You aren't sure but you hope this place feels like a home and he gets to decorate his walls.

The shower is still echoing through the door but you can hear the water clearly, no disturbance or movement. Your brows pull together as you make your way to the bathroom and knock softly. You don't get any answer and you don't hear any movement behind the door.

"Jay?" You ask as you knock louder this time. A lump forms in your throat while your heartbeat starts to spike. Your stomach burns and your teeth grit together. You remember the day on the roof. "Jason, are you okay?" You call again and don't get anything in response.

Your hand goes to the door handle and you pause for a second. And it's just a second before you open the door slowly. You carefully peek your head around the door, your eyes landing on the walk-in shower. The frosted glass door is open while water ricochets onto the white tile floor. And then there's Jason. He's seated, fully clothed in the shower, his knees are tugged to his chest while his arms are wrapped entirely around his shins. His head is buried in his knees and all you can do is shake your head in devastation.

You walk inside and close the distance between you. You keep your stance from outside of the shower, trying to mind his personal space.

"Jay?" You try again and you get nothing from him. It's as if he doesn't even register you in the room which might be one of the biggest red flags when it comes to Jason Todd. He is nothing but on guard.

You walk back to the door and shut it, just in case. Then you kick off your shoes and tug your hoodie off your head before you close the distance between you again. This time, you enter the shower, immediately getting pelted by warm water as you kneel down right in front of him.

"Jay, hey." You call his name again but this time, your hands are delicate and careful as you put them on his cheeks. He jumps immediately, head hooting up with eyes terrified and red. He looks panicked for just a few seconds until his brain catches up with what he's seeing. Your teeth grind together seeing the look of pain across his face. It's written in every line and feature you'd fallen so in love with over the last year. Your hands come to his cheeks again, just as tender as they were before and he doesn't even flinch this time. "What's going on?" You ask softly. Jason shakes his head against your hands and his eyes dodge yours and he feels embarrassed and exposed. Of course, you'd find him.

You always find him.

You always see him.

"It's you and me." Your voice is careful as your thumbs run over his skin. "I'm worried about you. What happened?" You brush the white streak of hair from his face.

"Loud." Jason's voice comes out hoarse and small and his bottom lip trembles. It takes every muscle in his body not to let out a sob.

"Okay." You nod your head once, the look of worry almost permanently etched into your features. If Jason had the strength, he'd push you away just to get you to stop worrying so much. He doesn't deserve it. You don't deserve it. "What happened?" You ask quietly, the water now completely soaking your hair.

Jason offers the weakest shrug you have ever seen. "Don't know." Why do you want to help him? Can't you see the monster he's become? His lip starts to tremble again as he tries to get a breath in but the tears are coming back and he can't breathe out of his nose. The water is dripping into his mouth and he almost thinks it'd be easier to just drown right here.

Not a day goes by that you aren't worried about him. It doesn't matter if you haven't spoken. It wouldn't matter if you hated him, as if that were even possible. You'd worry about him because Jason Todd has done everything to be enough. He has done everything to be happy and somehow, he's still the one sitting in a shower in tears because the world around him is suffocating. Yes, the whole Robin thing was worrisome. The whole Red Hood thing is worrisome. He gets shot out for fun. He taunts people because he thinks it's fun. Someone else is going to kill him one day, that much is certain. And while that is worrisome, you've also seen the damage people he loves have caused him. It doesn't have to be physical damage because Jason's own brain wants to torture him and it uses everyone else's words as some sort of infinite ammo. The vigilante thing is worrisome, but where Jason's head is, that's the real thing that's worrying.

It wouldn't matter if you hated each other, you would rip every false and cruel thought that ever crosses his mind.

You let go of his face and move your hands to his. You're careful, lightly pulling his hands apart and away from his legs. Once his legs are free, you move to the side and lightly press on his knees until his legs are stretched out in front of him. The whole thing is making Jason watch you with careful eyes and it's almost a distraction and then you climb on top of him. You straddle his lap, Jason's eyes never leaving you and it almost causes him more panicky. He might know you better than he knows himself, but he very rarely knows what you'll do in moments like these. But then, you don't say anything. All you do is wrap your arms around his neck and pull him for a hug.

Jason tenses up just as he's done before but after a few seconds, a part of him relaxes against you. He gathers a full breath into his lungs and it's as if he's giving his body permission to lose it all again, in the comfort of you. His arms wrap around your middle and his grip is so tight as he lets out a sob, you can't breathe. You think you'd suffocate if it allowed him any type of relief.

It is all just too much. The weight on his chest is too heavy and he doesn't think he can carry it. He goes out and he murders people. They may be very bad people but it's what he does and he thinks about how Bruce is so mad about it. He tries to be understanding but they will never come to an understanding over it. It will be a matter of time before Jason ends up an enemy to Batman and by default, an enemy to Bruce. What makes what Jason is doing different than what the Joker did to him? To Jason, Batman and Robin were the Joker's enemies, right? And he took care of a problem, the same way Jason is taking care of problems. Jason might not be the instigator in it, but he's doing the same crime. Was Bruce right about it? Is he any different than the Joker?

Most days, it is a thing that he lives with. It's for the greater good and his soul is already damaged, it's already the property of something that isn't quite him anymore. It's always just waiting in an in-between for his second round at death. He does it so other people won't have to. He does it so other people won't feel like him or you or Bruce or Dick or Molly or any of them. He does it to help because people get forgotten. That's what he tells himself but right now, he can't quite figure out if that's really the right thing. He doesn't know what else he's supposed to do. If this isn't supposed to be the answer, then what is? What if it isn't and he can't come back from it anyway? His hands are already stained with so much blood.

And because of that, he falls back into his routine way of thinking. He is damaged. He is broken and scarred, physically and mentally now. Everything around him crumbles at his feet. He tries so fucking hard to be something that's easy to swallow and digest but he fucks that up, too because no one really expects him to be like that. He breaks everyone around him and all he does is hurt people. They try to offer him love and kindness and he bites through it like a rabid coyote. He is undeserving. Someone who is deserving doesn't push and they don't hurt people for being kind. They don't destroy people. That's all he has ever done.

And then he fucking died. It might have been scary and traumatizing but there was a moment, right before everything went dark where he accepted his fate. That would be it. No one else would have to suffer for his mistakes. He was going to die and some people might be sad for a little bit, but they would move on. And he wouldn't fuck up their lives anymore. And he wouldn't suffer anymore.

The ache in his bones would be gone and the voice would be quiet. All of the pain he's dealt with would just be...gone. He would take his last breath, and that would be it. He has hurt for so long that there was a moment where he accepted his fate, that it might just be better and easier this way. He did not want to die and he wishes he were able to have put up a fight but in that single second, he accepted it.

That feeling lingers with him today. He accepted it and as brought back. The reaper won't leave him alone, tugging at his lungs and his bones. It's not forceful, just a casual reminder of what's waiting for him one day. It's a feeling in his stomach that feels like the start of an ulcer. Just there, waiting for the right moment. And he saw the look Dick gave him when he saw Red Hood was Jaosn. He did not seem happy. You were at first pissed about it. No one really seemed too happy at first when he came back. He interrupted your grieving process and then interrupted everything else. He dies with the ache in his bones and the guilt because he has no choice but he swears he won't do this again.

He put a bomb in his helmet as a failsafe.

You pull his thoughts back to you as you press a kiss to his temple. "You're gonna be okay, Jay."

"I'm not!" Jason yells through a whine as he pulls away, his eyes on you. His chest is heaving as he pants for some sort of air. "I'm never gonna be fucking fine."

Why does the world treat him so cruelly? Can't it see that he is good? Can't it see that he has always been enough? Can't it see that Jason Todd has been through enough? He has suffered enough. You would fight the universe with your bare fucking hands if that's what it took for it to understand that he is done suffering.

"You will be." You nod your head at him as your hands come to the side of his neck. Your thumbs trace his jawline. "And you don't have to do this shit alone." You urge. "I told you, if I'm alive then you are never alone and I mean it. I don't care." You shrug harshly. "It's gonna be okay." You want to kiss him until he believes you. You want to kiss all of his hurt away, scare it away so far away that it never comes back. You want to kiss him as hard as you can so maybe he'll believe, once more, that he is worthy and he's gonna be okay and he is never fucking alone if you're breathing.

"I-I just want to stop." His voice has never sounded so defeated as he rests his head against your chest.

"I know." You whisper, your hand moving to the back of his head as you run your hand through the wet strands of black hair. "It will, you just gotta give it some time, Jay." Your voice is steady and calm, disguising the pain in your chest. "You've been through a lot."

Jason picks his head up, his green eyes are dark and miserable. Completely broken. "I died." Jason chokes out.

"Yeah." You nod once as Jason watches something devastating rip through your eyes. "Someone should have been there to protect you." You wish it would have been you. It should have been you to protect him.

Jason shakes his head and he lets out this chuckle that almost falls into another sob. "Maybe I was better off dead." He says it in one breath, all flat and sincere. "Look what I've become."

"No." You say sternly because he doesn't get to do this to himself again. He has prevented you from this exact spiral more times than you can count and he doesn't even know it. It's your job to make sure you repay the favor that was never really a favor. "You deserve to be alive." Jason catches a subtle break in your tone. "You became something that everyone was too fucking cowardly to become. You save people." You nod firmly. "Do you know how many people you've saved as Red Hood?" You ask.

"Not fucking many." Jason lets out a huff.

"Three hundred and two." You answer right back.

Jason's eyes widen and he is so certain you're making that up. "What?"

"Three hundred and two." You repeat. "There was a domino effect, too. I didn't actually count that because it would be like... impossible but I did account for some of them. A guy was gonna blow blow up the museum but you stopped him the day before he had a chance. So, you saved every person that would have been there. You've stolen how many guns from Black Mask? I mean just think of how many people you saved because you took those guns? Domino effect. Of course, there was the apartment fire last week which I don't know, Jay. You're not a firefighter but you still went into it and saved a whole family then went back and saved their cat."

Jason's eyes burn and sting as he stares at you in disbelief and confusion. The water pelts him and it's the first time he realizes it's going a little cold. Why the fuck do you know that? Why are you keeping track? Jason doesn't even believe you. You have no reason to keep track of how many people he's saving. It's his doing and it has nothing to do with you. There is no reason for it. You're just telling him this shit to make him feel better even if that's never been something you've done.

You don't lie to him.

Jason didn't think you'd start so soon and he did do those things. The Gazette wrote a few articles about it though and Molly knew. Maybe that's how you knew but your eyes are soft and your fingers are idly playing with the wet strands at the base of his neck. Why are you keeping tabs on him when you never called?

"W-why the fuck do you know that?" Jason finally gets the words out and you can't tell if he's actually mad about it or concerned.

You hope he's just concerned.

You shrug and offer him a small but cheeky smile. "Cause I do." You suck in a breath. "Have my ways."

The very corner of Jason's mouth tugs upwards just barely at the thought that you're really keeping tabs on him, outside of hearing from your friends. If it were anyone else, he'd be pissed. He can take care of himself despite what this situation might look like to an outsider. He can take care of himself and he doesn't need people worrying about him and keeping tabs just to be disappointed or mad. Jason Todd has never needed anyone but you keeping tabs on him both as Jason Todd and Red Hood is different because you only do it for people you care about. You weren't talking and you still kept up with what he was doing. It makes him wonder why because you could have called. You could have asked yourself and maybe that makes the tiniest smile fall.

Jason didn't call either.

"Keeping tabs on me?" Jason asks with a rough but quiet voice, his brows pulling together.

Not keeping up with him feels impossible. As much as you're beating yourself up for everything and as much as a part of you doesn't think you deserve anything with him at all, there was always a part of you that knew you needed to keep up. Molly and Gar might know what he's doing as himself but Jason's going to keep them away from Red Hood as much as he can. Somewhere inside your stomach, you knew you'd find your way back into each other's lives one way or another. You just wanted to know what he was doing and if he were okay. The only thing you want is for him to be okay and killing people is not the easiest thing in the world, despite what it might look like sometimes. So, you've been keeping up with him just in case.

He's important to you, of course you keep tabs on him.

"I know you're keeping tabs on me, too." You whisper back to him, the cheeky smile completely gone from your lips.

Sometimes Molly will ask an odd question, something she either shouldn't know about or something off-handed. All of the Titans would just ask you which means the only person in Molly's ear is Jason. And you know damn well Molly is smart enough to know you'd figure it out. You just don't say anything. You give Molly the answer and Molly updates you on Jason's things. Okay, so she's a little in the middle of you and Jason but Molly knows you're both mostly asking about each other because you're worried. It is so stupid and you're so emotionally stunted, but it'd drive you both crazy not to know.

Jason just needs to know you're okay.

"Maybe." Jason finally gets a grin onto his lips because you knowing without saying anything until now makes his heart swell. Even apart, you just can't help yourselves.

"Exactly." You let out a soft laugh.

Jason nods a few times, his smile turning gentle. "Why, uh, why do you know that though? How many people?" Jason asks and he finds himself resting his hands on your hips as if on instinct.

"Helps." You answer casually. "Keeping track of everyone you kill and everyone you save by killing, it helps. Keep track of mine, too so...I kept track of yours...just in case." You clear your throat, dodging his eyes. "Know how you are and stuff so...uh, yeah, just...knowing it does help...helps on days where it feels like this might be worse." You explain softly. "It's not...by the way." You clarify. "Greater good but yeah...uh, yeah, you know sometimes it's a lot to carry."

The way you word it makes Jason's heart burn. His hands grip your hips a little tighter and he remembers the night outside of Jerry's. You nearly beat him to death and everything was still heavy. It was still a lot to carry and Jason told you to put it on him. When it gets too hard to carry, put it on him because he can carry the weight of it for you. You swore you'd do the same for him and Jason wonders when you seemed to lose that.

He knows. Deep down he knows because it haunts him in his sleep. That night outside of Excellent Gotham when you were finally done absolutely destroyed him. He knows that was the night you both lost everything. That he lost everything. He had almost gotten you, Tim, and Mr. Drake killed and you couldn't do it anymore. Jason still doesn't blame you even if it makes him want to lose his mind to guilt and regret all over again. It hurts because he always felt so secure with you but then that happened and it was like everything he ever had finally collapsed at his feet. An earthquake disguised in the words of "you win. I can't do it anymore. I'm done." crumbled his foundation. Your love had been wilting away ever since he came back and that was the day it all finally fell apart.

He wishes he could take it back. He wants what you had back.

"Still will carry some of the weight for you, Jay." You suck in a breath.

Can the wilting process be reversed? Can it be rebuilt? Or is it tarnished forever? Or can you rebuild something better? If Jason committed now again, would it be better? Could you get a fair fucking chance at this time?

Jason grinds his teeth thinking that he wants you. After all of this and you are still willing to be soaking wet in your clothes in a shower with him and carry the weight of devestation for him when it's too much for him. He is endlessly and hopelessly in love with you. He wants you. He wants what you had before and he wants to rebuild it. Somehow, some way, that is what he wants and fuck if he thinks he deserves it or not because you wouldn't be here if you didn't feel the same way.

Jason leans his forehead against yours. "You can still put it on me." Jason whispers softly and you gain a soft and subtle smile.

You don't know it, but Jason is entirely committed to you. Maybe you won't want to try again and Jason can't even blame you. It was a fucking shitshow and he died and you almost died. It was a fucking disaster. Maybe you weren't, but your worlds burned around the both of you and charred you both in the process. Maybe you won't want to and that's fine. But, Jason wants to try it all one more time, banter and games and then falling into something. It might not have worked the first time, but it'll be different this time. He's so sure of it and he is so sure of you. He just wants to find his footing and allow you to find yours first and then, even if it makes him want to throw himself through a window, he'll start the conversation.

You pull away, resting your hands on his cheeks. "Why don't we get up, get dry, and I can stay if you want me to?"

He always wants you to stay.

"Ya don't have to if you don't want to." Jason offers even though he knows you will anyway.

"I know." You smile softly at him before you scrunch your nose at him. "Guess you're just stuck with me."

Jason lets himself laugh. There's no such thing as being stuck with you. You don't get stuck to people and you make sure people don't get stuck to you. He is not stuck, it is always a pleasure to have you around. Even when it's hard.

Sorting yourselves out is for the best. It hurts the both of you more than words could possibly describe and a part of that does not feel it's for the best. It feels, somehow, more complicated now than it did before. It's as if you've both forgotten how to walk around each other and that part feels wrong. You both strolled right into each other's lives before and made yourselves right at home as if it were always meant to be that way. Being a part and sorting yourselves has left this gap between you that you're not sure how to build a bridge back. But it's for the best because you can't be together and offer each other the care you deserve if you're too busy dealing with your own traumas while trying to help the other one. It's a little too much to throw in a romance. It sucks and Jason knows it.

"Thanks."

"Of course." You get up, leaning over and turning the shower off finally.

You offer your hands to Jason and help him to his feet. The both of you are completely drenched and it makes Jason laugh. Your hair is soaked, the small bit of eyeliner is running down your cheeks and your t-shirt sags pathetically over you. You stick your tongue out at him and then laugh with him. He doesn't look much better than you do so you laugh, heartily and loud, the booms bouncing off of the tile surrounding you. It's all a little ridiculous.

"Why are you laughing?" You ask as you gasp for a breath.

"You look like a drowned rat." Jason bellows before he grabs the two towels from the towel bars.

"Fuck you!" You yell before sucking in a laugh and catching the towel from Jason. "So do you!"

"I know!" Jason agrees with you which only makes you laugh more and he thinks you're still the prettiest person he's ever met.

His laughing subsides first and turns into something soft and tender while you just smile at him before rolling your eyes. Jason wides his eyes to mock you and then he turns around. He rests his towel on the counter beside him before stripping down to his boxers and you can't help but watch. You're starting to feel goosebumps erupt over your skin as you grow colder but the sight of Jason Todd stripping down? That is not a sight to be missed.

He's somehow more toned now than he was before. The muscles of his back flex with every movement as he dries himself off. The Lazarus pit healed his face and the other injuries he sustained from the Joker but it didn't get rid of his previous scars. The one from his dad is still there and the other one from a fight on the streets. You still like how they look on him. Proof that he is alive. And the only thing you want to do is wrap your arms around him and kiss up his shoulder blades.

You almost do it.

Your feet almost move and you can almost feel how his skin will be warm against yours. He'll straighten his stance at first and then he'll relax. His hands will come up to your arms and a chuckle will fall from his lips the second you place the first kiss between his shoulder blades. You both would be happy.

You almost move.

But it's not your place anymore.

So, you will yourself to turn around and strip down just as he did, leaving you in just your bra and underwear to get as dry as you can. Jason peaks over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of your back to him. He could feel you practically boring into his back and he's relieved you turned around. It wouldn't normally bother him but he'd have to turn around eventually and he wasn't in for that conversation at the moment. But, he offers a glance, catching the raised lines of scars through your back, something that still boils Jason's blood.

Your scars never bothered him. Proof that you fight like hell to make it out alive. But, it pisses him off because what the fuck did you ever do to deserve the mistreatment? Nothing in this world justifies the horrors you went through and the fact you have to bear the scars for the rest of your life as if the haunting memories weren't enough. Jason gets it more than anyone, especially now. And all he wants to do is pull you into him, litter kisses across your face until you burst at the seams with laughter because you're happy. At least if you're laughing you're happy and that's what you deserve. To be happy.

Jason shakes his head and says he'll be back with some dry clothes before he darts out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He takes a few minutes to get some dry clothes on himself, making sure he's covered with a black t-shirt and grey sweatpants. His body starts to warm up almost immediately from the clothes and then he rummages through his things looking for something for you to wear. He grabs a pair of boxers for you, sweatpants that he only kept because they fit you better, and a red t-shirt.

When Jason gets back to the bathroom, you're seated on the toilet seat with the towel wrapped around you, cutting off just above your breasts. Jason offers you a smirk because who are the both of you if you aren't going to do this whole banter thing?

"Wanna give me a show?" Jason quips.

You snap your attention to him, seeing a pile of clothes in his hands and him now fully clothed. "No, fuck you." You chortle back as you get to your feet.

"But I'm sad." Jason gives you the fakest pout you've ever seen.

"You're still obnoxious." You quip, gesturing with one hand to get the clothes from Jason.

Jason keeps his smirk. "Better than shithead."

"Shithead." You beam up at him, still waiting for him to hand over the clothes.

"Babe." Jason laughs before handing over the clothes.

You smile back at him with the roll of your eyes. "Maybe I'd have given you one if you gave me one." You blink up at him and Jason knows damn well this is a trap.

"In your dreams." Jason holds his confidence.

You shrug, deciding to play the game. It is always the most fun that way. "Those are my best dreams."

Jason feels his cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink. "Don't have just be dreams, babe."

"You fucking wish."

"If I did?" Jason quips without missing a fucking beat.

"I know you do." You roll your eyes and he knows he's won. "Turn the fuck around or get out."

Jason lets out a laugh before he leaves you to get changed, closing the door behind him. "I'm right out here if you change your mind about the show."

"Fuck you!" You yell before Jason hears you laugh behind the door.

Jason leans against his dresser, tugging out his phone to see what he's missed. He has a few texts from Gar, mostly just TikToks and one asking how things are going. Jason decides he'll respond later, not in the mood much for explaining that one. There's a text from Dick asking how Tim is doing and Jason replies that it's going fine, not offering any further explanation. He knows damn well Dick sent the same text to you and you'll elaborate more. There isn't much else on his phone so he goes to his gallery, a habit he can't quite break.

He hasn't deleted a single photo of him and you from his phone. It's an endless and helpless bit of hope that it'll be you and him at the end of this. And these are pictures from a better time because even when he was dealing with the shit from Deathstroke, at least you were both happy. Everything still seemed so simple compared to how it feels today. It feels like years have passed since you were in your bed changing your lock screens to matching pictures. It's as if you've lost your last bit of innocence in those few weeks of terror and agony. Jason figures that's just a consequence of endless trauma. He grieves for the kids you should have been allowed to be. Innocent and dumb and stubborn and carefree. He grieves for the people you both were in the pictures on his phone.

The door opens, tugging Jason's attention up and away from his phone before he pockets it. A tender smile pulls at his lips as you walk out in his clothes, he swore they always look better on you anyway. You have a pile of clothes in your hand, topped with the black towel. You walk right up to him, standing just a few inches from him and beam up at him before you offer the stack to him.

Jason tilts his head back with a laugh before he pushes off the dresser. "Am I your fucking maid now?" He quirks his brows at you.

"I don't think you want me to answer that." You laugh right back and it's something airy and warm.

Jason shakes his head. "Fuck you."

"If you ask nicely." You fire right back and you watch the subtle tint of surprise fade over his face. You let out a snicker before Jason deadpans. "It is still so much fun to fuck with you, Jay."

Jason isn't the only one chasing the innocence of a few months ago. You can feel it, too. It's dark now. Something heavy is lingering in the air everywhere you go. You hate how it feels and ignoring it doesn't do you any good but what else is there to do? At the very least, the way Jason laughs still makes you smile. At the very least, the way he laughs makes the air not feel so heavy anymore. The banter makes things feel a little bit better because at least you're talking, at least you're still on the same page. At least it's still him and you.

"Give me your damn shit." Jason grumbles through a smile while you do as told through a laugh. "Just...wait here." Jason stutters for a second before he darts out of the room.

You make your way to his bed and sit down, your hand landing on his pillow. There's something hard under it and while it isn't your business, you pick up the pillow anyway. Jason keeps a gun under his pillow and the smile evaporates in a second. You know why he does it but...it's the reality of it. The heaviness of always having a weapon at the ready even when it dangers your own life. To live in fear. To live always on guard. It's not fair.

Your heart aches for him. Even after everything, he deserves better. He has always deserved better but now he's stuck here dealing with the monstrosities he was manipulated into doing and dealing with dying. It's all not fair and you wish you knew what you could do to make it better.

You carefully grab the gun, checking the safety and you're relieved he's at least keeping the safety on. You rest it beside you before you look on the other side of the bed, not seeing any other weapons. You'd hope you would have noticed last night or this morning if he had anything out in the open. But, Jason wouldn't which makes you wonder where else he's hiding his weapons.

"What're you doing?" Jason's voice brings your attention back to him.

"Why, uh, w-why do you keep a gun under your pillow?" You ask.

Jason's teeth grind against each other, knowing he can't lie about it. He moved it last night when you weren't paying attention. He'd never have you sleep in a bed when it could go off. But, by the way you asked, that's not why you're asking. You don't even sound mad but Jason is embarrassed anyway. Exposed again, twice in one night because of course he keeps weapons at the ready. He needs to be prepared for anything. Joker took care of the job once already and Jason has been doing a great job in making more enemies than friends these days. He keeps his guard up at all times so he doesn't get beaten to death again.

"I put it there." Jason states, stuffing his hands into his pockets, practically gluing his feet to the floor. Maybe if he doesn't move, you won't ask any more questions.

You blink at him a few times. "Yeah...I-I knew that?" You question him. "That's fucking stupid, you know that?" You ask with the nod of your head. "You might have the safety on but what if it goes off?"

"Look, it's not a fucking thing. You don't have to make it one." Jason shakes his head, gesturing a leisured hand towards you, trying to brush it off as much as he can.

You roll your eyes before you get up, gun in hand with the barrel facing the floor. "I'm not judging you for it. I get it." You shrug your shoulder as you hand the weapon to him.

Jason holds it in his hand, grip tight while he watches you go to your bag. His brows furrow as you start digging into your backpack. You pull out a switchblade, metallic blue shining against the low light of his room. You walk back over to his bed and put the knife under his pillow.

"It's locked so it shouldn't open on you while you're asleep. Just don't lose that one, I like that one." You roll your shoulders, eyes locked on his. "I got those from Bruce so they're good for throwing." You explain as you swallow thickly and you can see Jason wanting to fight you on it, defend himself but he doesn't need to. Jason Todd never needs to defend himself against you. "I have one under my pillow, too." You say quietly while you watch Jason's face soften and his shoulders relax.

Being with you was always the place he never felt judged for anything, even the blood staining his hands.

"Thank you." Jason takes a few steps forward, finally unsticking his feet from the wooden floorboards. "Don't have to look after me, though." Jason says it simply, a hint of hurt in his voice. He takes a seat beside you. "Not your job anymore." Jason's eyes are dark and sad, something tugging his thoughts back to a place they shouldn't be.

"I know." You say quietly. "It was never a job in the first place." Your eyes go to your hands and Jason can feel the lump in his throat growing again but this time, for the love he thinks he lost from you. Or the love he thought he lost. "You're still my favorite person." You whisper back to him and you don't know why you say it. You only know that it's true and it's always been true. Maybe he just needs to know it's still you and him.

"Still?" Jason asks, his eyes searching over your face for any indication that you're going to throw out some quip.

"Mhm." You hum with a subtle nod.

Jason looks to his hands in his lap and he misses you more than words could possibly describe. He misses your honesty and your care and your quips and the snark. He misses every aspect of you and he is so in love with you. He thought, for just a second, maybe that feeling would fade. Time would pass and it would fade, especially lately. You'd meet again and maybe it would be so different that he wouldn't feel like his heart would burst from his ribcage at the sight of you. You always deserved better than him anyway. After everything he put you through, you deserve better than that but he can tell by how you stutter and tug at your sleeves, the way your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes after the last bit of banter, you aren't entirely happy. Being with him, for some reason he'll never understand, made you happy. And being with you always made him happy. You're sitting here and it's as if his very heart is trying to climb through his chest to get to yours. He is still so endlessly in love with you.

"I miss you." He says it quietly, looking back to you and he wishes he could tell you the other eight letters but..that all seems a little too honest and a little unfair. He doesn't expect you to say it back.

Every day you wake up and you love him. Every day you wake up and you miss him. Today was the first day in two months, you didn't miss him. You didn't miss him because he was down the hall. You didn't miss him because he was here and so were you. Today was the first day in two months, your chest didn't ache with the thought of him. You miss him, too and you miss his smile and his laugh and the new addition of the white streak of hair. You miss his sarcasm and his ability to turn anything into some sort of joke. You always miss him. And you are endlessly in love with him.

"I miss you, too." You whisper back, eyes locking on his.

The haunted words of 'I love you' scrape down your throat, knowing it's not your place to say them. It's too honest, too vulnerable, too exposed. It's too much for both of you and it's not fair to put that on him. It's not fair to put it on him because you aren't sure what you'd do if he knew. It's agonizing swallowing the words. You have felt more at home today than you have in two months. Jason deserves to know you still love him despite it all but you can't say it.

The room falls silent, the air between you growing humid and thick. Tonight was a bad night. They happen sometimes. Sometimes the weight of it all drags Jason down and he can't pick himself up. But you walk right in and don't even hesitate. You always know what to do and you never even question it. Tonight was a bad night but you were here and he is thankful for you. He's coming into himself as Red Hood, knowing, most nights, that what he's doing is for the greater good. He's getting along with Bruce and they're actually trying for once. He sees Leslie once a week. He is trying, making a solid effort to move past everything that's ever made him feel like a burden. It's the forgiving himself for what happened that drags him down.

Everyone was right. It was his choice to go to Crane. He didn't have to. Sure, maybe it wasn't really him while he was high, but it was. It was him making that choice to keep taking it, it was his choice to ignore every single offer you ever made to bring him back just because he was pissed and stubborn and he felt abandoned. So many people have suffered because of what he did under Crane's control. It may not have been the real him but he still did it. And that's a very difficult thing to forgive himself for. And it only ever gets worse when you're involved because you were the one person who never even thought about giving up on him until you were given no other choice. It's a very hard thing to forgive himself for but he is trying.

Leslie says he needs to learn to forgive himself, everyone else has forgiven him and that should mean something.

He's trying.

He's trying to forgive himself and be better. He is trying to accept the care and kindness of others without second guessing their motives or when they'll up and leave.

He's trying not to push.

"I..." Jason stutters. "I really miss you." Jason says again, hoping you get it because he can't stand to not have you in his life anymore.

Your face softens as your heart shatters through your chest. You forgave him for everything the second it all happened. Sometimes, you can feel yourself upset about some of it but it's just the grief kicking in again. The grief of everything you both lost the second he made the decision to go to Crane. It is the one decision he has made that you don't understand but you aren't Jason. You weren't Robin. You weren't stripped of the most important thing to you, of your identity. Not like Jason was. And you forgive him anyway because Jason doesn't like to hurt people. Especially people he cares about. Pushing has always been a way to hurt himself, not other people. You forgive him for everything even if he doesn't know it.

You wish it were different so you wouldn't be suffering through the pain of missing each other. It doesn't seem very fair, especially tonight.

You know what he means.

"I really miss you, too." Your voice is honest and Jason thinks you even sound scared, a reminder of how he sounded the first time things got a little too real with your feelings. Those words hold the same meaning that they do for Jason. Everything you're both too scared to say tonight.

You lean forward, resting your forehead on his shoulder and you know your heart will only ever belong to him. It'll always be safe with him. Jason's eyes soften as he looks down at you and instead of making some quip or joke, he lets you sit in the moment. He rests his cheek against your head and all he wants to do is kiss you. This isn't easy for you either.

You lift your head and Jason's eyes are big and green, the prettiest shade of green you've ever seen. He is still the only thing you have ever wanted. He will always be the only thing you'll ever want. And Jason can feel it, too, like an invisible string tugging you together in every universe, in every timeline. You are the only thing he has ever wanted. You are the only thing he will ever want.

Jason hopes you know he feels it, too so he rests his forehead against yours first this time. Your eyes close as your shoulders relax and Jason finally lets out a breath before his eyes close. He'll never ask because that's too soon into whatever this friendship is going to be but he's hoping you stay awhile. Stays past morning tomorrow and into the night. You don't have to talk about any of it, he just wants you to stay and he wants to stay just like this because it's the safest he's felt in two months. And it's like a reflex, embedded deep into his DNA, he brushes his nose against yours as he feels your breath fan over his lips.

You match him but instead, you brush your lips against his. You haven't kissed him in a month and a half yet it feels like it's been an entire century. Kissing him has always washed away every doubt and ounce of sadness you've ever had. Him kissing you has always made you feel wanted, the two of you against the world. That's how it should have been and that's how it should be now. You want to kiss him so badly you think you might burst into tears. Life was always better with him in it. You want to kiss him to show him that even if you can't be together, you still love him with every ounce of your existence.

Jason's head starts to spin and he holds his breath. He's thrown right back to that time in the manor when you told him to prove it. You said it and he never put in a single thought after that. He took the leap and he thinks it was one of the best decisions he's ever made. That kiss sealed your fate together, even for just that short time. It brought you to him in a way he didn't think he'd ever be lucky enough to have. Being with you made him feel lucky for the first time in a very long time.

Maybe you can do this again. Maybe the way for you to do anything is to tiptoe into it. It didn't work last time but it wasn't for lack of trying. It was Jason who fucked it up but it had nothing to do with you and him. Maybe falling back into each other is how it's supposed to be. Maybe you could fix it all. It's just lonely without you. He's terrified but your lips brush over his again and you're making the first move this time. You can still quiet every horrible thought he's ever had. He loves you with every ounce of his very existence.

Jason brings his hand to your cheek, running his thumb over your cheek. Your skin is always soft under his callused fingers. He thought maybe you'd back out because you do that. You run from everything, you back out, it's all a joke and that's that. It would be incredibly painful but...you don't. You lean into him instead. So, Jason finally closes the bit of distance between you and brings his lips to yours.

You smile against him and Jason can breathe again. He can breathe again as you kiss him back and your mouth moves with his. This might be a one-time thing but that's okay because even if it's just for this moment, you choose him. And he chooses you. You will always choose each other. In the chaos of your lives, somehow, you find your way back right here with your hands pulling the collar of his shirt closer to you and his hands on your cheeks. You choose each other anyway. Despite the pain and heartbreak and chaos and all of the terrible, horrible, thoughts, you choose each other. Even if it is just for a moment, Jason decides to take the second leap and he wants this moment to last as long as you will let it. If you'll have him.

Jason moves his hands to your hips, giving them a squeeze before he tugs you closer to him. You get the hint and without breaking the kiss, you move to straddle his lap, Jason guiding you down. His hands squeeze your hips and he tugs you as close to him as possible while your hands find their way to his shoulders and then the back of his neck. Your fingers tangle in the damp hair at the base of his neck. The kiss grows sloppy and desperate, teeth clanking against each other and it is the most cathartic feeling the both of you have had in a long time.

It is healing parts of you both you didn't think possible. Normally, it's Jason questioning your feelings because why would you ever love him after all the damage he's done? But, it's you questioning that as you kiss him with everything in you. You're just like everyone else, why would he forgive you for that? Why would he kiss you like he's still hopelessly in love with you? You broke a promise to him and he's still here and you have no idea why. But, tonight, you're going to allow yourself to be thankful. All that matters right now is that you're here, together, just him and you.

Jason swears you have left a permanent make spelling out your name across his heart and Jason wouldn't have any other name in your place. And a part of him thinks you know, too. It's as if it glows and heats up the center of his chest whenever you're around. It's like his heart becomes a beacon of light on the top of a lighthouse the second you kiss him. You make him feel alive again and he doesn't have to feel so alone when you're here.

You feel so at home with him. Every piece of paranoia that's been coursing through you fades away and you know, without a shadow of a doubt, with Jason you're safe. After everything, he will always protect you. You will always protect him. You're tied together even if you don't want to admit it to each other. You've ruined each other for anyone that would ever come after and the both of you have never been so thankful.

Jason pulls away, his chest heaving as his eyes open slowly. Your eyes meet his slowly, pupils lust-blown and you have a loving and lazy smile spread across your lips. He thinks he could do this all night long.

He gains his signature smirk. "Did I win that time?" Jason's eyes glance to your lips.

You deadpan and shake your head. You expect absolutely nothing less from him. "Shut the fuck up."

Jason lets out the warmest chortle you've ever heard. "That's a yes."

"Just shut up and kiss me." You groan before colliding your lips with his.

You can feel him grin wildly against your lips before he falls right back into rhythm with you.

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[athena-writes-i-guess]

what abt a oneshot where reader is in public and calls eddie (they’re dating) and asks him to pretend to be her bf cause she completely forgot they were actly dating cause the relationship was new and she was drunk and he’s like girl what? i am ur bf!!

A/N: Hello friend! Thank you so much for this request! Sorry it took a little bit! Work has been actually insane for the last few weeks. I really had fun writing this little thing, I really hope you like it!!

Pairing: Eddie Munson x f!reader

~~

“So, do you want to maybe go get food with me sometime?” You were asked as the boy, who’s name you couldn’t remember, leaned on the counter in front of you.

You were at a party, roped into going by your friend Robin. She practically begged you to go so she wouldn’t be alone when Steve got busy, and you had nothing to do that night anyways so you decided to go. You had been drinking, probably a little too much at this point, and you were already a little wobbly and confused when you started this conversation. Hell, you didn’t even know what had been said that led to this question.

“I’m sorry, I really can’t.” You slurred out, taking another sip of the mystery drink Steve had made you.

“Awe, really? We’ve been having such a nice time talking.” He asked, shooting you a friendly smile.

Shit. You hated confrontation so much. And letting people down always made you uncomfortable. You usually made your best friend, Eddie, do it for you. Too bad he wasn’t here right now to help.

Then you had a thought, something Eddie had told you to say if you were uncomfortable with a guy hitting on you, “Sorry, I have a boyfriend. Think he’d be pretty mad if I went out with another guy.” You lied, adding a small chuckle for effect.

“Oh, really? I didn’t know that, I haven’t seen you with anyone. Who’s the lucky guy if I can ask? See who I lost to.” He chuckled, taking a sip of his own drink as he looked around, seemingly to look for your supposed boyfriend.

“Oh -uh- he’s not here yet. Had something to do before the party.” You said quickly, taking another sip as you avoided his eyes.

“Well, introduce me later. It’d be cool to meet him.” He said with a nod, “I’m gonna go get another drink! See you later!”

Shit. You hadn’t thought he’d actually ask to meet your boyfriend. What to do now? Who could you even ask to pretend?

You looked around the kitchen that you were standing in at the teens around you, trying to see a friendly face, when suddenly it hit you.

Eddie.

You could ask Eddie! He wouldn’t mind pretending to be your boyfriend. He had always told you that he could if you needed. You had always felt a little awkward about asking him, since you had been basically in love with him since you met. But now you need him.

You decided to look for a phone upstairs where it was a little quieter, passing by tipsy teens as you made your way through the house. You nudged passed couples chatting and making out as you walked up the stairs until you finally found an empty room. You quickly locked the door behind you and rushed over to the phone, dialing the number you had memorized from daily use.

It rang and rang and you were worried that he wasn’t home. You knew he had band practice today. You almost gave up when you finally heard a hurried, “Hello?”

“Eds! Thank god you’re home!” You said, slightly relieved.

“Hey sweetheart! I wasn’t expecting to hear from you until later. Is everything okay?” He asked, concern laced through his words.

“Yeah, everything is fine. It’s just- do you remember how you said that I should tell creeps that I have a boyfriend if they ask me out?” You questioned.

“Yeah?” Eddie responded, slightly confused.

“Well this guy- I don’t even know his name- asked me out and I said I have a boyfriend and now he wants to meet him and I don’t have anyone! Can you please come and pretend to be my boyfriend?” You pleaded, twirling the phone cord around your finger anxiously.

“Sweetheart-” He started, now Eddie really was confused.

“Please Eddie? Pretty please?” You interrupted.

You heard Eddie laugh and you felt the frown pull at your lips, now he was going to tease you about this.

“Sweetheart, I can’t pretend to be your boyfriend.” He said, you could hear the smile through the phone.

“Okay, sorry Eddie.” You couldn’t stop from pouting.

“Wait, babe, it’s because I’m already your boyfriend.” He laughed. “I can’t pretend to be something I already am.”

You felt your eyes go wide and your mouth dropped open in surprise. How could you forget? How could you forget that the guy that you had loved for years had asked you to be his girlfriend just last week?

Alcohol. That’s how.

“Sweetheart? You still there?” He chuckled.

“Oh.” Is all you could say.

“How much have you been drinking, sweet thing?” Eddie asked.

“I don’t know, Steve’s been giving me these drinks and I don’t know what’s in them.” You chuckled, smiling even more at the little “Great” he let out at that. “I’m sorry Eds. I can’t believe I forgot! I think that means I should cut myself off, only water now.”

“It’s alright baby. How about I come over, walk around with you for a bit and get you a little sober- make sure that creep stays away from my girl- and then I’ll take you home for the night. Then tomorrow, for our date, I’ll make sure you won’t be able to forget that I’m your boyfriend, hmm?” He teased lightly, you could practically hear the shit-eating grin on his face.

“That sounds good babe.” You smiled, “Thank you. I can’t wait to see you.”

“Me neither, sweet thing. Be there soon pretty girl!”

Taglist: @srapalestina @yvonneeeee @cityofidek @anaisweird @mrslovesmayahawke @harrys-tittie @becca-alexa @catacina (couldnt tag earlier so sorry)

[suzukiblu]

Ko-fi thank-you sentences for quietellen, @qwertynerd97, and K; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! 

“Cool!” Billy says, beaming at Superboy. He considers if the house rules conversation should be next, but probably the “no” conversation needs to come before that, but–

Actually, wait. Before any of that–

“So, um, what do you wanna do about your name?” he asks curiously, tilting his head. They need something to give Batman to put on Superboy’s civilian paperwork, obviously. Superboy–stills, then looks uncomfortable, and Billy tries not to frown. 

“Do I have to be Marvel Boy now?” Superboy mutters, looking at the floor. Billy blinks, startled by the question. 

“Well, I don’t think you have to,” he says, not quite sure how to approach the tight look on Superboy’s face. “I mean, you’re not magic, that might be confusing for people. But you can if you want?” 

“. . . no,” Superboy says, not lifting his eyes from the floor. “Being Superboy is–fine."

Billy doesn’t know if that’s a real “no” or not, for obvious reasons, but he figures they can work that out later. Hero names are easy to change, after all. And even a civilian name they can come up with a reason to change if they need to, obviously. And that one’s the real concern right now anyway, since Batman needs to finish the paperwork and also Billy just needs something not a hero name to call him. And the team will too, he figures.

“Okay, cool, then you just need a real name!” Billy says firmly, smiling encouragingly at Superboy, who finally looks back up. He looks skeptical. 

“You mean a civilian alias for that paperwork you were talking about?” he asks. 

“Well, yeah, but also just for having?” Billy says with a shrug. “Like, so people can call you it.” 

“People already call me Superboy,” Superboy says with a frown, folding his arms. 

“Yeah, but when you're not Superboy and stuff,” Billy explains, because maybe Superboy doesn’t really understand that that’s a thing, considering his life experience so far and all. Which–why would he, after all? “Like, I'm not always Captain Marvel. Er. Although don't tell anyone that either, please, 'cause I think the Justice League kind of thinks I am? And like . . . I'd rather they all just keep thinking that, honestly, it's just way more convenient that way.” 

“Uh . . . okay?” Superboy says, looking puzzled. “So I need an alias for . . . pretending to be a civilian, then.” 

“Yeah,” Billy says, figuring “for when you are a civilian” might be a little too confusing right now. “For when you’re off-duty, you know?” 

“The only names I know already belong to other people,” Superboy says with a deepening frown, which makes sense, Billy thinks. Probably Cadmus didn’t upload too many unattached names into Superboy’s head, and for the past couple of days he’s probably only been hearing names that belong to the people he’s been meeting. “And I barely even know any last names at all.” 

"Oh! Well, that one’s easy, your last name can be Batson," Billy tells him helpfully, smiling encouragingly at him again. At least that part’s easy, yeah. "I let Batman just make something up for the paperwork and stuff because I didn’t wanna tell him my real name, but Batson is my last name, so it’d be nice if that was your last name too." 

". . . what?" Superboy asks in bemusement, just staring at him again. “Why are you telling me your real last name if you didn't even tell Batman?"

"I mean, it's your name too now," Billy says reasonably. "Of course I'm gonna tell you your name." 

Superboy stares blankly at him. 

". . . the fake one is 'Rocky Morgan', though," Billy supplies in the awkward-feeling silence, a little sheepish again. "My fake one, I mean. So your paperwork is all gonna say 'Morgan' too." 

"'Rocky Morgan'?" Superboy repeats, wrinkling his nose. 

"The last time Batman went undercover he told us all to call him 'Matches Malone' so I'm pretty sure I got off lucky," Billy says with a shrug. He doesn't really know where Batman gets his fake names, but maybe he just likes being creative? 

". . . yeah, I think you did," Superboy agrees, making a face.

[cringe-but-proud]

Can you do a story were you date Sirius so he can actually Date Remus and reg don't know and likes you and gets jealous

If you can thx you <3

I didn't think I'd like writing this as much as I did lol.

Regulus Black x Fem!Reader

Some Warnings: Technically a modern AU, a bit of cursing, mentions of a bad home life, jealous Reg, sort of angsty???

A/n: I made this new Year's themed even though new years has passed 🤗 Cause y'all can't stop me 🤬🤬🤬 This is DEFINITELY my longest fic yet. PLEASE DON'T LET IT FLOP GUYS.... My requests are open btw

Ah, winter break. It was something everyone at Hogwarts looked forward to. Well, almost everyone. There were those who didn't get to go home to their families and some who wished they didn't have to go home to their families.

One of those people was a friend of yours, Sirius Black. He often avoided talking about his home life, but you knew it wasn't good. And you knew going home for the holidays could be hard for him. So, when it was the day before winter break and the two of you had a moment alone, you asked if there was anything you could do to make the break easier for him.

"I need you to be my girlfriend."

Seven words you'd never expected to hear from your best friend. Your best friend who was in a gay relationship, nonetheless.

"What?" You asked in bewilderment. "No!"

"Wait, wait, wait. It's not what you think." Sirius put his hands up as if to show his innocence. "I don't really want you to be my girlfriend. I just need you to pretend. Please."

"Why?!"

"Because," he explained. "My parents have started to get... Suspicious about my total lack of any girlfriend. And I may have told them that I was dating you.... Y'know, to throw them off my track..."

You stared at him. "You told your parents we were dating?!" You repeated, clearly upset at him.

"I know, I know. It was a shitty thing to do, and I'm sorry." He says. "But, if I didn't give them some sort of excuse, they might've found out about me and Remus!"

You were still upset, but you could understand why he did what he did. "So..." You crossed your arms. "You said I need to pretend to date you. What is it exactly that you need me to do?"

"Over the break, I need you to come over for a couple days. My parents will meet you, get to know you, blah, blah, blah. And then, you'll never have to speak with them again. If they ask about you after that, I'll say we broke up."

You really weren't a fan of having to fake date your best friend. You also weren't a fan of having to meet his parents who you'd only heard negative things about. But... You knew how happy he was with Remus and you would hate for his parents to find out about the two. You sighed. "You're lucky we're friends."

"Is that an agreement?" He asked, a grateful smile on his face.

"Yes. But, you'll be forever in debt to me."

"Fine by me."

The next day, while on the train to 9 3/4, you and Sirius mostly just planned for you having to meet his parents. You decided that you'd arrive the day after Christmas, stay for news years eve, and leave new Year's Day.

A lot of the train ride was spent establishing some basic facts about your "relationship". How you'd met, your first date, what your wedding would be like (which was strange, but Sirius assured you that his parents would ask about marriage), and some other details.

Soon enough, the train ride was over. Your winter break was fine. You enjoyed getting to see your family, but you were quite stressed about seeing Sirius' family. Part of you wanted to call the whole thing off, but you knew that was out of the question. You had to do this. For Sirius.

The morning of December 26th was a cold one. You wished you'd had more protection against the cold, but the formal attire you were wearing could only do so much. Sirius had told you to bring nice, formal clothing for the few days you'd be there. You were a bit worried you'd still be underdressed, though.

You took a deep breath and knocked on the door to the literal mansion that Sirius lived in.

After a few moments, the door opened. Regulus black stood on the other side.

Oh.

"Hi." You greeted, trying to politely smile at him. He didn't return the gesture. He did the opposite he gave you a look of... Annoyance?

"You're here for Sirius."

You couldn't tell if it was a question or a statement, so you just gave a nod.

He stepped aside to let you in, his eyes trailing over your attire, making you feel nervous. "He's in the living room with mother and father." Regulus said before walking off.

What a strange interaction. You and Regulus weren't close, by any means. But, you never thought he disliked you. You thought the opposite was true. Whenever the two of you did interact, he was always quite nice.

You tried to shrug off the interaction, but you just couldn't. Even when you were next to Sirius, meeting his parents for the first time, the way he'd acted toward you was on your mind.

The worst part of your day was dinner. You were worried about everything. How you were eating, how you were sitting, the way everyone was looking at you, the way Regulus was looking at you.

"Y/n," You were broken out of your thoughts by Walburga's authoritative voice. "I want to know how you and Sirius began seeing each other."

You nervously glanced over to Sirius who gave you a forced looking smile. You looked back to Walburga. Gods, she scared you. "Well, it wasn't too long ago." You said, trying your hardest not to break eye contact with her. "It was late September. He told me since we'd known each other for so long, he thought we'd be a good match."

Sirius nodded along. "We went on a couple dates, turns out we really like each other." He said.

You glanced over to Regulus. He was glaring at you. You didn't break eye contact and after a moment something else flashed through his eyes. Something softer. Sadness?

"So," Walburga broke your attention away from Regulus as you looked back to her. "Are you serious about your relationship with my son?"

"Very." You replied.

"Do the two of you plan on marrying?"

You swallowed. "As soon as possible."

You heard silverware clatter as Regulus abruptly stood up. "I need to be excused." He said lowly.

Walburga raised an eyebrow. "You've hardly eaten." She stated. There wasn't any concern in her voice like you'd expect. It was a blatant statement.

"I know." He says. "I'm done."

His mother gave him a disapproving look, but didn't object.

Regulus stormed out of the room. You couldn't help but frown as you watched him leave.

The next few days were a bit uneventful. Most of your time was either spent in the guest bedroom you were staying in, or talking with Sirius. You were still confused by Regulus' attitude toward you. You knew his and Sirius' relationship was a rocky one. But, you didn't think that affected what he thought of you. He'd known you and Sirius were friends, and he still treated you kindly. But, now that the two of you were pretending to date, he had a problem with it? It didn't make any sense!

It was December 31st now. You and Sirius were sitting in his room, eating lunch while sitting on the floor.

"I was thinking-"

"Oh, God."

"Shut up, let me finish." Sirius chuckled, playfully hitting your arm. "I was thinking about going to a party tonight."

You furrowed your brows. "Where?"

"James and his family have a new years party every year. I'm sure they wouldn't mind some extra company."

You thought about it. Honestly, you weren't really in the mood for a party. Plus, if his parents caught you sneaking out, your heart would probably stop. "I think I'll sit this one out." You said after a moment.

"You sure?"

You gave a nod. "Yeah, I'd rather stay in. I'm sure you'll have plenty of fun without me."

"Oh, I will."

You smacked his arm.

The clock read 11:39. You were alone in your guest room sitting in your bed. You had your laptop open in front of you as you watched a broadcasting of one of the many new Year's events that were going on tonight. You were absentmindedly looking at the crowded city streets displayed on your screen when-

"I wouldn't be using that while having the door open." Regulus said. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, looking from you, to the laptop, and then back to you.

"Why not?" You asked.

"My mother doesn't approve of us using muggle technology." He said. "And I doubt she'd be okay with her son's girlfriend using it."

You sighed. "Right... Girlfriend."

Regulus raised a brow at how you'd said that. "What are you watching, anyway?" He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

"A new Year's parade."

"... Could I join you?"

You were surprised at that. After how cold he'd been acting toward you over the past few days, you'd assumed the last thing he'd want to do tonight is spend time with you. But, you weren't against the idea of not being alone when the new Year started.

"Sure." You replied as you moved over on the bed to make room for him to sit.

The two of you watched the parade in silence for a few minutes until Regulus spoke. "How come I had no idea you and Sirius were dating?" He asked.

You glanced over at him. "What do you mean?"

"You said the two of you had been together since late September." He said. "How come nobody knew about it?"

You subconsciously began to fiddle with the fabric of your shirt. "I don't know." You shrugged. "Guess we weren't shouting about it from the rooftops."

Regulus didn't break his gaze away from you. After a pause, he spoke. "I never would've guessed you liked him in that way."

You didn't know how to reply to that, so you just shrugged again.

Regulus was still looking at you, even though your gaze was focused on the screen in front of you.

He paused. "What made you fall for him?" He asked.

You thought it was an odd question. When you turned to look at him, he looked sort of sad. "He..." You trailed off.

Regulus looked at you expectantly. You were trying to come up with something, but your mind was blank.

"You do like him don't you?"

You looked away nervously. You began to wonder whether or not he'd even care that your relationship with Sirius was fake. If he really was upset about you dating Sirius, then wouldn't he like to know that it was all just pretend?

"Y/n." He said your name and you were pulled away from your thoughts.

"He's not actually my boyfriend." You blurted out.

Regulus paused. "What?"

"He asked me to pretend to be his girlfriend. He didn't want Walburga finding out about his actual relationship, so-"

"It's all fake?" He asked.

"All of it."

"You don't like him?"

"Not like that."

You swore you saw a sliver of a smile creep on to his face. "That's... Good."

You tilted your head. "Is it?"

"I mean..." He shrugged. "I just... I guess thinking you'd gotten with my brother was making me upset." He said.

"Why?"

"Because..." He hesitated. "I like you, Y/n."

You felt your heart skip a beat. Fuck, that actually explained a lot. You couldn't believe you hadn't realized sooner. You felt your face heat up. "Seriously?"

"Yeah." He sighed. "I was jealous. That's why I was acting so... Weird. Sorry for being such an asshole to you."

"That's alright." You paused. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? About your feelings, I mean."

He shrugged. "I didn't think you'd feel the same."

Honestly, you'd always found Regulus quite attractive. But, you figured there was no way he'd ever like you back, so you let go of that silly crush a while ago. But, this? This was making all of those feelings wash over you again.

It was 11:59 now. You could hear the commentators of the parade excitedly get ready for the countdown.

"I feel the same." You said, watching as a blush creeped on to his cheeks.

"Really?"

"Really."

His eyes seemed to sparkle at your admission. "I..."

You heard the countdown to the new Year begin.

"Can I kiss you?" Regulus asked softly. You nodded.

"Five!"

He leaned closer.

"Four!"

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips.

"Three!"

His hands came up to cup your cheeks.

"Two!"

He closed his eyes. You closed yours.

"One!"

Your lips met in a soft, romantic kiss. He brushed some hair out of your face and Gods, his hands were soft. You couldn't believe you'd ever managed to stop liking him.

When you pulled away he sighed contently as if that kiss was all he'd been needing his entire life.

You whispered something to him before pulling him in for another kiss.

"Happy new year."